LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



®|aii.y.rn„ Sijpi?rig|i Ifn. 

Shelf .^l":!^.. 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



j'iiL 24 18«/ 



PHANTASMAGORIAN 



THEOLOGY 



AND 



OTHER THINGS. 



By W. p. NEEDHAM. 




INDIANAPOLIS: - 

'CARLON A HOLLENBECK, PRINTERS AND BINDERS. 
1887. 
/ 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1887, 

By W. p. NEEDHAM, 

In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 



\ — < ■ .rv. ^^ ^ 



THE DIVIDE, 

There is, beyond the Great Divide, 
A land with hills and valleys wide. 

And meadows soft and low; 
A gracious land, where spirits sing 
The glories of a mighty King, 

And crystal rivers flow. 

'Tis but a dream of endless gain 
That God has painted on the brain, 

And mortals, dreaming, wed 
To Christ, and feel that God is near, 
And listen, as they dream, to hear 

The sandals of the dead. 

Why is the trusting heart afraid ? 
And why the human soul dismayed 

When angry waves do wear 
Our names from out the sands — and Fate, 
The warder of a common gate, 

In silence waits us there ? 

Across the range the lamps are out ; 
The stars are hid, and all about 
A something seems to say: 
"Oh feet a- weary ! why toil on? 
Oh life a-dreary, almost gone, 
There is no shining way." 

But strew all doubt before the wind 
For just to-day, and let us find 

A gleaming diadem, 
To crown our faith — for dim eyes fail— 
And with the lowly shepherds hail 

The Star of Bethlehem. 

Dear home beyond the Great Divide! 
Though I but walk where ills betide, 

My soul is saved and free 
From that dark thought that death is doom,. 
Nor shall I sink to Godless gloom — 

My soul is stayed on Thee. 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 



CHAPTER I. 

God is a theory. 

Human love is a fact. 

Hell is depopulated. 

Heaven is an allegory, from the ancients. 

Death is the doorway to something better. 

Life is a tragedy, mysterious*as death and terri- 
ble as Doom. 

Science is in the nursery, a noisy, troublesome 
infant, who prattles and cries continually in the 
absence of the wet nurse. 

Humanity needs a religion that can walk with- 
out crutches ; guided by human wisdom ; nurtured 
by human love ; expanding and abounding always 
in the light of hope and truth. 

Immortality is accepted as a fact by nine-tenths 
of the^ human race. They regard it as a birth- 
right ; or rather as an entailed inheritance, coming 
down from the fathers of civilization, who grappled 
the idea from chaos and were not mistaken about 
it. This faith in immortality is a blessed antidote 
of misery and will never be abandoned. 

After the church and the world have accepted 



6 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

the obvious facts that the Bible is the work of men 
who drew their inspiration from natural sources, 
and that Jesus Christ was of human origin, the in- 
fluence and sacredness of the Bible will not be 
lost ; and the blood of Christ will still be sufficient 
for the washing away of sin and uncleanness. 

Why should men entrench themselves against 
Reason and Truth? Truth, however lovely, is 
sometimes very unpleasant, and, notwithstanding 
the theories of philosophers and the wisdom of 
mankind, the world is absolutel}" in the dark in 
regard to things beyond the dark veil of death. 
How foolish, then, for men to waste time on the 
non-essentials contained in creeds, or lose their 
temper about things which they can neither under- 
stand nor demonstrate. We are surrounded by 
mystery and can not understand the common things 
of life. Nature speaks with a thousand tongues, 
and each tongue voices an unknown language. 
How then is the priest able to tell the mysteries of 
the unknown world? These wise men, who at- 
tempt to pry behind the curtain, are much like the 
man who thrust his walking-stick into a pool of 
water and, after drawing it out, looked for the 
hole ; they can not change the surface. 

In early life I acquired a supreme contempt for 
two very prominent characters of history, and even 
now I can not rid myself of the feeling. One is 
the boy who *' stood on the burning deck," and 
the other Saint Peter. Of course I admire the 
heroic spirit of the boy, but can not help thinking 
it would have been better for the world' had he 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. . 7 

jumped overboard the moment he smelled smoke ; 
in which case the poem which recites the story 
would not have been written. I dislike Saint Peter 
because he deserted his colors when he should 
have been ashamed to do so. I do not here assert 
that the damsel at the door of the palace or the 
maiden at the fire where he warmed himself, tried 
their blandishments on him, or in any way alien- 
ated his affections from the Savior ; but I do know 
that many a better and manlier man than this 
vocabulous saint has been lured to ruin by the 
glimpse of a well-turned ankle or the witchery of 
tender glances artfully bestowed. Black eyes, and 
blue eyes, and hazel eyes, and even gray eyes, 
have played havoc among the sons of men, but it 
does not prove that Peter flirted with the chamber- 
maid, or made love with the dining-room girl at 
the palace of the high priest. After all, I think 
my first impressions were correct ; that Peter did 
not love the master, nor have much faith in him, 
until after his death ; which is all intensely human. 
Add to his lack of faith, abundance of human na- 
ture and craven disposition, a pair of cowardly legs, 
and it is easy to understand why he was at one mo- 
ment a boisterous defender and pretended lover of 
the Savior, and in the next a deserter, warm- 
ing his clammy hands by the heat of the palace 
fire, denying any knowledge of Christ, and swear- 
ing like a bandit. I want to say, right here, that 
I do not believe that Saint Peter is, at the present 
time, keeper of the golden gates of the new Jeru- 
salem ; because, if he is as easily frightened as he 



8 ' PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

used to be, the welfare of the "Eternal City" 
would be in jeopardy. In some way the idea, that 
preachers and pullets were simultaneous, has be- 
come a fixture in coarse and vulgar minds ; and 
Saint Peter is clearh^ to blame for all damages 
caused by the promulgation of the idea, because 
he was one of the first regularly ordained ministers 
of the gospel, and "immediately the cock crew." 
But it is not my object to ridicule the clergy nor to 
speak sneeringly of sacred things, for I believe 
that preachers are as good as other folk as long as 
they behave themselves, and the Bible is a book 
in which every man could dail}^ find a useful lesson. 
The doctrine of evolution explains that nothing 
produced something from nothing. Moses sa3^s : 
" In the beginning God created the heavens and the 
earth." Scientific men say, "In the beginning 
God didn't do any such thing," but that the entire 
universe was filled with nebulous matter or fire 
mist, and this fire mist was a great big red-hot 
nothing, chuck full of little somethings. After a 
lapse of countless ages nothing became tired of 
doing nothing and as the conglomerated mass 
rolled round and round and assumed a spherical 
form, our earth, just to break the monotony, shot 
out from the bosom of its primitive abode, and, 
like the prodigal son, began the revolutionary busi- 
ness on its own account. Having issued from a 
spherical body, the earth in its first condition must 
have been a ring of fire, just like a ring of smoke 
from the smoke-stack of a locomotive. After fifteen 
or twenty, or thirty, or forty billions of years had 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 9. 

passed away, the law that contracts bodies with 
cold and expands them with heat diminished the 
size of the earth and solid crust appeared, after 
which the little somethings which had laid dor- 
mant in the fire until all the hair burned off, began 
to squirm, and by and by Shakspeare and Dante 
and Homer stood up and amazed all the insects of 
the great ash heap. What this mighty trio failed 
to give the world was afterwards faithfully recorded 
by Ruskin. Fellow-squirmers, true wisdom em- 
braces common honesty ; therefore, when you strive 
to fathom the unknowable you must admit you are 
fishing in a dark and dismal pool, millions of miles 
deep, with a tw^o-foot line. 



CHAPTER 11. 

Poor wanderer of a stormy day, 
From place to place you 're driven, 

And fortune's flash and reason's ray, 

Serve but to light a gloomy way. 
There's nothing true but Heaven. 

— Tom Moore. 

Enter the Path! There is no grief like Hate! 
No pains like passions, no deceit like sense. 

— Edwin Arnold. 

Such quiet came, expectancy 

Filled all the earth and sky ; 
Time seemed to pause a little space, 

I heard a dream go by. 

— Maurice Thompson. 

Heaven is located in the human breast, and each 
man peoples and paints it to suit himself. Why 
should any man make it less fertile than the Gar- 
dens of Damascus ; or less attractive than the Vale 
of Cashmere? Almost every man who lives in a 
civilized country is a heaven-builder ; and in this 
kind of architecture he is extravagant. Why 
should n't he be? Raw material is abundant and 
inexpensive, and the regulation heavens, made by 
enthusiastic framers of ancient creeds, although 
entrancing and beautiful, are subject to decay and 
change, for the soul changes as its ideas of beaut}^ 



12 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

and harmony expand or contract. A cheap heaven 
is just as undesirable as unnecessary, and, however 
poor, and friendless, and forsaken a man may be, 
he still may hear the sweet voice on the waves 
of the ^gean Sea ; and, although he may have 
no knowledge of the value of chalcedony, sar- 
donyx, chrj^solite, beryl, sapphire, chrysoprasus 
and jacinth, and but a vague idea, gathered from 
flash advertisements of the village jeweler, of 
the worth of jasper, emerald, pearl and even ame- 
thj'St ; but w^hen he reads in plain, untortured 
English, about a city made of pure gold, immedi- 
ately all the purchasable good things of this life 
rush to his vision. He stores his heaven with the 
joys and good cheer denied him in this life, and, 
no doubt, often wonders what he will do with so 
much gold when he gets it. 

Down the aisles of the ages, from the vestibules 
of time, comes the blessed hope of immortality ; 
falling on the human heart in its wonderful beauty, 
softer than snow, and sweeter and stranger than 
the melody of Memnon's statue floating over The- 
ban plains. Like the waters of some hidden Nile 
of the soul it scatters life and wealth across man's 
Egypt. Love is the only jewel in the casket ; 
guard it well. Hope is the only star in a mantle 
of everlasting night ; cherish it above all things. 

The throne of the Christian's God was reared by 
human hands ; the crystal river of the celestial 
city sprang up like a fountain in the desert of the 
human heart ; the roots of the tree of life cling to 
a human skull ; and golden streets, fadeless flow- 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 1 3 

ers, jasper walls, and pearly gates are but blossoms 
of Oriental dreams. 

The Chinaman believes that he will be pulled 
by the hair of his spiritual head up through space 
into the " celestial city," where opium and bliss 
will never end. 

The lonely Indian, under the shadow of the 
rocks, weary with the chase, and voting life a 
fraud, dreams of the time when he shall roam 
through tangles of mighty forests, across undulat- 
ing plains and by limpid streams of the Happy 
Hunting Grounds, where Areouski's fierce cry is 
never heard and white men cease to trouble. 

In ancient Greece the soul was Bohemian in 
its habits, after the death of the body, wandering 
away in search of God and truth, and after man}^ 
changes being purified and fitted for Elysian bliss. 
The kingdom of heaven was always at hand, be- 
ing on Mount Olympus, and for some reason, which 
I do not understand and which has not been laid 
bare by those versed in the bird claws and spider 
tracks of the Greek language, some of the favorites 
of the gods were allowed to clamber into this realm 
above the snow, and sit in the congress of the 
gods and dwell in the council-chambers of the im- 
mortals, without having passed through the routine 
of change, or without having first dwelt in the 
sweet fields of Paradise. 

Under a great ash tree, in the under world, th*^ 
gods of Scandinavia held their sacred council, and 
ordained that three beautiful maidens should sit in 
judgment forever, on a throne, near a great foun- 



14 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

tain, and decide the fate of every soul. The re- 
deemed passed up thenceforth from the under 
world on a gorgeous rainbow, and slid into heaven 
in much the same way that small boys reach the 
bottom of a hill. I see no particular harm in such 
arrangements, provided the maidens were lenient, 
and did not send the wicked coasting down the 
other end of the rainbow. 

The faithful Moslem desires, at death, to sink into 
the embracing arms of Azrael, the merciful, and 
spring from earth, swifter than the hawk and sure as 
the leopard, and from the unerring scales of Gabriel 
pass to the golden gardens of the blest, where he 
shall wander forever, by streams and fountains that 
flash and sparkle as diamonds or emeralds ; bv lote 
groves and mauze trees covered with flowers ; by 
rivers, whose waters are as wine, flowing between 
banks where fruits from the glorious gardens hang 
temptingly down, and soft airs are burdened with 
fragrance from gold-blooming dates and scarlet 
roses ; where he shall dwell in splendid pavilions of 
pearl, or palaces of marble, sleeping on gold-broid- 
ered couches, drinking celestial wine from golden 
goblets, embracing the wonderful night-eyed virgins 
whose arms twine about him in the sweet abandon 
of love, whose immortal bosoms swell, whose 
dear lips tremble with delight, and whose glad 
eyes brighten only when their lover is near. 

The devout Buddhist attains Nirvana and eternal 
peace by walking with an eye single to the glory 
of Buddha, through the vain and transitory delu- 
sions of this world ; by imiplicit obedience to the 



PHANTASMAGORiAN THEOLOGY. 1 5 

faith of their grandfathers ; by loving and suffer- 
ing ; by submitting to the will of others, that others 
may be enriched in the joys and comforts of this 
life ; by deep humility in adversity ; by conquering 
all temptations to embrace false faith ; by subdu- 
ing love of self; lust, love of mundane existence, 
hatred, desire for heaven, and self-praise ; by over- 
throwing the giants of error and pride ; by living 
a stainless life, blameless and pure, being always 
patient through the long agony of doubts and de- 
lusions ; by losing the drossness of earth in the 
grandeur of doing good ; by the gentleness of a 
magnificent aristocracy ; by exhibiting at all times 
and under all circumstances the justice of tender 
mercy and the sublime qualities of human love to 
all things that move and have a being, whether it 
be the scrawling reptile of the jungle, bird, beast, 
or the highest type of mankind. This is not an 
easy route to heaven, but it is the most humane. 

In the land of elephants and cannibal tigers, 
where palm groves wave, and magnificent temples 
exalt irresponsible gods : where refined Sanscrit 
literature refuses to yield its wealth of secrets, 
and scatters profound mystery over Oriental opu- 
lence ; where rice fields yield abundant harvest, 
and gold, and diamonds^ and pearls, and the best 
treasures of the Orient are scattered profusely ' ' at 
the feet of men," the children of Brahma lose sight 
of time in contemplating eternity, and seek unity 
and absorption with God, and in the sweets of ab- 
straction find their highest idea of heaven. Trans- 
migration is one of the doctrines of the Brahmins, 



l6 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

and their books also teach that the soul may be 
■divested of all sin, after the death of the body, by 
.suffering. The absent-minded saints of this re- 
ligion suffer the severest austerities, and live w^ith- 
-out soap or w^ater in order to forget themselves and 
the balance of the world ; and it may be possible 
that their standing in the religious world is known 
by the length of their finger-nails, and the general 
condition of their wearing apparel. As the Brah- 
mins professed superiority and high rank above 
their neighbors, and as a majority of them were 
financially able to enjoy the luxuries of life, and 
claimed to own the earth and the elephants under 
the earth, it is safe to say that the number who at- 
tained perfection by living on roots and accumu- 
lating real estate, without the color of a title, was 
extremely small. But, notwithstanding the fact 
that many of the fanatical victims of this religion 
abandon the world in order to escape sentence 
from Yuma, the lord of hell, and the misfortune of 
being born into this world again, you must not sup- 
pose that the average sinner of Hindoostan enter- 
tains a meager idea of future life, or that he failed 
to make extravagant use of the costly treasures of 
the East. The Shasters give a vivid description 
of the heavens presided over by the numerous gods, 
and claim that the earth consists of seven oceans 
and seven continents. Of the oceans, number one 
is filled with brine ; number two with milk ; number 
three with curded milk ; number four with melted 
butter ; number five with the juice of sugar cane ; 
mumber six with rich wine, and the seventh with 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 1 7 

fresh water. Beyond is a land of pure gold, inac- 
cessible to man, and very far beyond is the land of 
darkness, containing different stages of hell, which 
is always accessible to the wicked. 

From the circular continent at the center of the 
earth rises Mount Meru, six hundred thousand 
miles high, and made of gold and precious stones. 
Its top is larger than the base, and contains three 
fabulous summits which are the abiding places of 
the great gods Brahma, Shiva and Vishnu. The 
heavens of several of the inferior gods are close by. 
One of them is eight hundred thousand miles in cir- 
cumference, with a dome supported by pillars of 
diamonds, and many palaces of pure gold, and it is 
so decked with valuable gems as to outshine the 
brightness of many suns. At the foot of the Meru 
mountain are three small mountains, and from the 
top of each (in the minds of the feverish Hindoos) 
grows a mango tree to the height of eight thou- 
sand eight hundred miles, bearing fruit of delicious 
flavor, weighing many tons, and of great fragrance. 
The precious rose-apple tree grows on these moun- 
tains, the fruit of which is of tremendious avoirdu- 
pois, and the juice of which will change any object 
into pure gold. 

In the lovely valley of Schiraz, by whose foun- 
tain streams the immortal Hafiz dreamed of love 
and Saadi attuned his lyre to the melody of birds 
and the voices of beautiful women ; where the song 
of the nightingale is sweetest and earth is carpeted 
with flowers and tender grasses, Zoraster's angels 
ot light and darkness contended for supremacy, 
2 



1 8 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

until the sword of Mahomet put a new song in the 
mouths of the people. From this lovely land the 
ancient Persians crossed the bridge of Chinevad 
into the mansions of the blest and received their 
reward in everlasting light, or fell into the gulf of 
perpetual darkness. 

From the granite bosom of Ethiopia's mightiest 
mountain sprang the fountain of the ^ile, trickling 
through silence enduring and solitudes deep, 
through the cold breast of eternal snows ; through 
the land of lotus blooms and aweless lions ; beneath 
the shadows of the oak, and the pine, and the 
palm ; kissing the burning sand as tenderly as a 
mother, and nurturing it into life and blossom ; 
crawling like a mighty serpent through the length 
of Egyptian lands ; filling the human heart with 
wonder and reverence and scattering the founda- 
tions of that wonderful civilization that illumined 
the world for six thousand years. In this land of 
the Nile where provinces and kingdoms flourished 
in such marvelous strength and beauty and crum- 
bled back to nothingness ; in this land where 
Osirian feasts and festivals of Isis made the hearts 
of the people leap with joy, the human soul sought 
immortality through the vicissitudes of transmi- 
gration. Alter the death of the body the soul 
commenced a three thousand years' journey through 
all animated existence, passing through birds, 
beasts, insects, etc., up to the judgment seat of 
Osiris, and from thence into the bosom of the sun, 
being swallowed up, as it were, in a blaze of glory. 
Creeds have crumbled, religions have decayed, 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. I9 

and heavens have passed away, but the substance 
of the ancient allegory is retained. The human soul 
still searches, on tireless wings, for the unknown 
God, who dwells behind a wall of night and whose 
hiding-place is in the deeps of eternity. Phidias 
sought, wath his chisel, to bring him from the 
rocks, but in vain. The stern and terrible soul of 
Michael Angelo drank from the fountains of the 
Old Testament and, with a master's hand, strove 
to place the seal of heaven on the human brow 
and fiood the human face with the light that "never 
was on sea or land," but he failed. . Raphael 
painted the " Transfiguration of Jesus Christ," and 
Mary as the " Mother of God." They are onlv 
sublimely human, and the unknown God remains 
behind the veil. Humanity dwells forever under 
the shadow of a great mystery and man works out 
his destiny with fear and trembling, for doom and 
chance are strangely blended in the web and woof 
of human life ; he gathers flowers from the elysian 
fields of love and beauty and, lo, they turn to ashes 
in his hands ! In untiring effort after intellectual 
gain his nerves are shattered and reason is de- 
throned ; he acquires wealth and loses it ; in the 
bloom of health disease fastens upon him ; after a 
lifetime " of long days of labor and nights devoid 
of ease," he says: "I am now ready to enjoy 
life," then death comes and bears him away; he 
prays to his God, as the Spartan, " Give me onl}^ 
what is good and honorable," but the sirens sing 
their entrancing songs from the fatal rocks, allur- 
ing him from the path of rectitude, and he is cov- 



20 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

ered with a mantle of shame and dishonor ; perils 
pursue and phantoms chase him ; friends prove 
false ; enemies, like serpents, trail across his path- 
way ; idols are broken and altars overturned, but 
'midst ruin and dismay he hears the voice of the 
unknown God, swelling like the wail of an Ionian 
flute above all ; he hears the struggles of his im- 
prisoned soul and the flutter of wings that beat the 
bars in vain. From the murmur of mighty rivers ; 
from the sweep of majestic oceans ; from the moan 
of solemn seas ; from the disk of the moon ; from 
the bosom of the stars ; from human lips of love he 
gathers strength, and the vestal virgins of hope 
whisper of rapture and bliss — and he says, " I shall 
live forever and forever." 

To impassioned souls oblivion seems better than 
life, because, if nothing but darkness and silence 
awaits the soul, in their depths would be rest and 
freedom from pain. To lie in *' cold abstraction ;" 
to leave the attainments of heart and brain, our 
household gods and the things we love is terrible 
to contemplate ; but death is a conquering hero, a 
mighty victor — " to the victor belongs the spoils." 
Poor Poe sang : 

Thank heaven ! the crisis — the danger is past, 

And the lingering illness is over at last — 

And the fever called *' living " is conquered at last ; 

The sicknes — the nausea — the pitiless pain — 

Have ceased with the fever that maddened my brain — 

With the fever called living, that burned in my brain. 

And the human soul, touched by sorrow, can 
understand why he wrote his poem " For Annie." 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 21 

Without chart or compass the human soul enters 
the Cimmerian shadows from whence no sound of 
mirth or pain ever comes ; across the Stygian 
waves, where silence broods and the vast solitudes 
of the unknown stretch away ; beyond the realm 
of thought, it drifts in darkness, finding surcease 
from sorrow and everlasting repose — if nothing 
more. 

Some one has said, "As the hour of sleep comes 
to the toil-worn man, so the hour of extinction 
comes to the philosopher ! '^ Such thoughts may 
contain logic, but the brain and heart cry out 
against annihilation, and will not be satisfied with 
only eternal rest as a compensation for enduring 
the agony of living and striving. The grave is 
the somber bridal chamber of death, to which the 
soul retires from the rude gaze of mortal eyes, and, 
like a chaste young bride, disrobes, casting aside 
its overworn garment and donning the white robes 
of eternity. As the lost Indian maiden wends her 
weary way through the star-lit jungles of her dear 
native land and finds the broad fields of bloom and 
beauty beyond, so the human soul wanders through 
the mazes of this life to the boundless domains of 
the one who dwells in darkness ; and the buds of 
immortality, that sprang to life in your soul, will 
bloom somewhere in the darkness which we fail to 
comprehend. 

The brain is the soul's disciplinarian, and the 
hour of solitude is the best time for soul-growth 
and expansion. In the sweet Idalian bowers 
of contemplation ; through broad and generous 



22 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

thoroughfares of thought the soul seeks a will-'o- 
the-wisp called contentment, but the searcher is 
seldom satisfied. Contentment is not an attainment 
of the soul, it belongs only to those dull, stupid 
creatures who are too credulous to doubt, and too 
passive to act. Such natures satisfy their appetites 
and passions and wonder why all men do not do 
as the}" do, vegetate and be happy. But it is 
written that " man shall not live by bread alone ; " 
his soul becomes hungry and thirsty, and requires 
food, for ever^^thing that lives must have some- 
thing to eat and drink. There are more starved 
souls than bodies in the world, and the spiritual 
rations issued to soldiers of the cross are not satis- 
factory to thoughtful ones. As an infant pleads 
for its mother's breast, so the starving soul cries 
for food. From the secret chambers of the soul 
and from the labyrinthian mazes of the brain comes 
all that makes life endurable. 

Abraham, from the doorway of his tent, on the 
plains of Mamre, and under the oaks in the heat 
of the dav, entertained his celestial visitors with 
becoming dignity. So the human soul from the 
portals of its secret place entertains the white- 
robed messengers of thought which flutter through 
the realm of solitude. We are told that the great 
and generous Prince Guatama left his pleasure- 
house, his beautiful wife and darling boy ; his 
lovely Indian girls ; his father's throne, riches, 
honor and fame, and became a hermit and a beg- 
gar in order that he might hold unbroken com- 
munion with himself; that he might devise some 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 23 

plan for the redress of human wrong and a pana- 
cea for human woe. Under the shadows of the 
Bohdi tree, in the darkness of night the hght 
of eternal truth fell upon him, and because of his 
solitary and sacred communion the world was 
illumined by the present wonderful and sublime 
doctrines of the Buddhists. 

Forced from Abraham's bosom by dove-eyed 
Sarah, Hagar wandered away, and, in a beautiful 
dream, the angel of the Lord found her by the 
fountain, in the way of Shur, and persuaded her 
that the time had not 3^et come for her departure. 
Years after the stingy patriarch strapped a bottle 
of water to her back and gave •her a crust of bread 
and cast her adrift on the desert, but the angel of 
the Lord found her in her solitude, weeping, and 
watching the starving Ishmael, as he lay under 
the shrub, " What aileth thee, Hagar? " she heard, 
perhaps in a dream, but, nevertheless, the voice 
from heaven renewed her faith and opened her 
e3^es. In after days she wandered, foot-sore, 
weary, desolate, and starving, in the barren places 
of Paran ; but she could tread the burning sands 
by day and rest with her head on a stone at night, 
unscared by the howl of beasts or the hiss of rep- 
tiles, for was not Ishmael with her? and the angel, 
by the waters of Shur, had told her that he would 
be a great ruler among men. Did she, in her sol- 
itude, hear the coming tread of the mighty hordes 
of Arabia, pouring over the trackless sands in war- 
like valor? or anticipate the achievements of Ish- 
mael's dusk}" brood, who were to roam forever, 



24 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

unconquered and free? Did not this dark-eyed 
Egyptian woman do more for the human race and 
produce better results by selecting for her boy a 
wife among the damsels of her own beloved Egypt, 
than would have been possible had she remained 
with false, fickle, hen-pecked Abraham? In her 
solitary wanderings she found the keys to the vast 
treasury of the desert. The weary Lama driver 
on the cheerless mountain tops, far from the busy 
haunts of men, isolated and remote from the com- 
forts of civilization, leans on his staff in the even- 
ing hour and listens for the velvet footfalls of 
darkness and silence, but think you not that he is 
alone ; he hears voices from the stars just above 
his head, or from the dear cottage homes in the 
pleasant valleys, and holds sweet converse, from 
the summit of the world, with nature and nature's 
god. 

A pilot drifts, at midnight, on the breast of the 
frozen deep ; chilling breezes sweep from Green- 
land's naked isles, but his heart is as warm as the 
summer sunshine ; dismal howls of starving wolves 
float down from eternal snows, but he hears and 
heeds them not ; the gurgle of chilly waters and 
the perils of the hour are alike subdued. His soul 
has left the wintry main and once again he clasps 
a dark-eyed Tuscan beauty, whose voice is like 
wine and whose heart is tender and true ; or, per- 
chance, wanders with some brown-eyed daughter 
of Isar's lovely vale, or some shy-faced maiden in 
corn-fields far away, where summer winds swings 
like a dream above meadows covered with flowers 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 25 

and broad fields carpeted with new-mown hay. So, 
in the deep, abiding resources of solitude he finds 
the hidden pearls of life, and it makes him brave 
and strong to endure. 

In the pathless desert, where yellow sands stretch 
away like a burning lake, a weary camel-driver 
sinks at night to rest. All the long day he has 
traversed the trackless waste, searching in vain 
for some spot where water is found and camels 
may rest in peace. His tongue is parched, his 
feet are swollen, his camels are exhausted and 
starving ; the sun has ceased to shine, but the hot 
breath of the desert still falls upon him ; Azrael's 
dark wings are spread above him, but he pleads 
that Allah, ever tender and compassionate, merci- 
ful and good, will lead him aright and save his 
perishing camels. His prayers are answered, and 
sweetly trailing on the breezes of evening comes 
the sweet voice of Israfil, soft as a lute, and full of 
gladness ; upgushing from the yellow sand springs 
a might} stream of water, clear as amber, "sweeter 
than honey, whiter than milk, cooler than snow, 
and smoother than cream;" wonderful river on 
whose chrysolite banks dark-eyed girls assemble, 
and lead him to groves of pleasure and palaces of 
rest. Perhaps, in his solitude, he only dreamed, 
but the poor Arab resumes his journey with re- 
newed zeal and hope, and by and by water and 
safety are found. 

Base and ignoble natures may find neither pleas- 
ure nor profit within the realm of solitude, but the 
wise and good are enriched by contemplation. A 



26 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

man may be chained to the cold rocks of misfor- 
tune, and, as the links of the " lame lemnian" fes- 
tered in the flesh of Prometheus, so the sad realities 
of destiny may hurt him ; but he is not dismayed, 
and even in life's last agony smiles in triumph and 
hugs the cruel chains, so soon to be broken by the 
Hercules — death. His soul is illumined b}^ a lamp 
that shines from the vestibule of a darkened pal- 
ace, and above the cry of angry vultures he hears 
the melody of unseen choirs. 

Solitude is a pleasant hermitage into which the 
soul wanders from the turbulent wa3^s of life, in 
search of shelter and repose ; thus isolated it be- 
comes a solitaire and its habitation is a " house not 
made with hands : " in it the ills of life are forgot- 
ten ; storms abate : friends no longer betray ; ene- 
mies lose their power to hurt ; the ape, and the 
tiger, and the bear die ; hope smiles and the lovely 
warders who guard the inner gates lead to bliss, 
where precious fountains leap in the starlight and 
soft airs of summer sigh above fields of Oriental 
splendor. Thus with the gates of his heaven ajar 
man may learn the immutability of nature's laws ; 
that all of life, love and beauty are shadowed by 
decay and shame : that earth, and sky, and day, 
and night, and sun, and moon, and stars, and hu- 
man wisdom, and light, and life are blessings bor- 
rowed from the treasure-house of eternit}', and that 
his little span of years is subject to the ravages of 
fire, flood, force, doom and chance : yet he feels 
that a final, grand evolution awaits him in which 
his imprisoned soul shall free itself from the dross- 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 2*] 

ness of earth and attain the God-Hke ahitude of that 
great presence who is so near that we may touch 
him, and yet so far away that we fail to compre 
hend him ; so visible, and yet we fail to find his 
hiding-place. 



CHAPTER III. 

Wide was the place 
And deep as wide, and ruinous as deep, 
Beneath I saw a lake of burning fire, 
With tempest tost perpetually, and still 
The waves of fiery darkness, 'gainst the rocks 
Of dark damnation broke, and music made 
Of melancholy sort ; and overhead. 

And all around, wind warred with wind, storm howled 
To storm, and lightning, forked lightning crossed. 
And thunder answered thunder, muttering sounds 
Of sullen wrath ; and far as sight could pierce 
Or down descend in caves of hopeless depths, 
Through all that dungeon of unfading fire 
I saw most miserable beings walk, 
Burning continually, yet unconsumed ; 
Forever wasting, but enduring still ; 
Dying perpetually, yet never dead. 
And there were groans that ended not, and sighs 
That always sighed, and tears that ever wept, 
And ever fell, but not in mercy's sight. — Pollok. 

The dandelion opens at five o'clock in the morn- 
ing and closes at nine at night ; the marigold goes 
to bed with the sun and wakens with him in the 
morning ; the crocus and tulip close in the even- 
ing, and many plants are so sensitive that their 
leaves close during the passage of a cloud ; in a 
clover field, please note, not a leaf opens until after 
sunrise. Men and plants, alike, slumber when 



30 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

darkness covers the world, but with rising beams 
of the sun, awaken refreshed and vigorous. Like- 
wise the soul needs air and light and sunshine 
after dark hours ; it must be fed on ambrosial 
fruits and drink the nectar of the gods. Give it 
life and liberty and room to expand. Throw about 
it the sweet environs of love, and beauty, and 
music, and it will flourish ; it should be like the 
Rhodian's "Queen of Beauty in her Cyprian 
shade," something to adorn and beautify ; and man 
should be, in developing his soul, as earnest as 
the happy artist who lingered on the ^gean isles 
that he might win the love and study the divine 
grace of Grecian maidens and transfer their beauty 
to the canvas of his " Queen." 

In order that man may sanctify and increase the 
grandeur of his immortal parts, it seems but mete 
and proper that he lay aside every weight that 
presses too severel}^, and brush away every obsta- 
cle that hinders his progress towards the highest 
standard of christian perfection. The bright blaze 
of Israel's pillar is ever before him, leading over 
trackless wastes to a land that " flows with milk 
and honey ; " and when the dream of life is ended 
he expects to sweep from earth to heaven, in tri- 
umph, as Elijah did from the heights of Mount 
Carmel ; therefore he is wise who divests himself 
of all impediments in the race, and allows his in- 
tellect to soar away from the beaten track of his 
forefathers, especially when that way is no longer 
safe for travel. 

The most degrading and debasing doctrine ever 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 3 I 

taught among men is the doctrine of eternal pun- 
ishment after death. It has badly crippled and 
retarded civilization^ for the desire of the soul is to 
walk in the light of immortal beauty and to be sus- 
tained by the wooings of a great love. On breezes 
from spice islands of a summer sea the voice of 
the unknown God is wafted to the children of men. 
He is calling them, not to a terrible doom, but to 
a higher and better life. The doctrine of hate is 
an impediment to human progress, and, fortunately, 
is becoming obsolete. 

Eternal punishment is an impossibility. The 
doctrine is repudiated by the best and purest men 
and women in the world. Hell is a failure and 
the devil a bankrupt. The horrible fires are fast 
becoming extinct ; the fuel is exhausted ; the wood- 
box is empty. A man might possibly imagine that 
two mountains could exist in proximity and have 
no valley between them ; he might possibly be led 
to believe that a millstone was a telescope, so per- 
fect that the constellations could be examined by 
its aid, but he will not believe that a loving father 
would stoop below the level of an Indian to torture 
the most ignoble member of his family. Certainly 
God does not " stoop to conquer." Only a few 
eminent divines are foolhardy enough to announce 
a belief in future punishment. They are probably 
honest enough, but if they would retire to their 
secret chamber and discard, for a time, the iron- 
bound creeds and dogmas of their churches, and 
commune awhile — just a little while — with their 
minds and hearts, and exhibit what they find, the 



32 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

revelation would reveal a total absence of the old- 
time delusion. Hell is a stuffed paddy which the 
^ood priest erects to keep the blackbirds out of 
his corn-field ; it is a scarecrow in the cherry trees 
of the stingy, and its home is in minds vacant of 
all the glorious gains of generous and cultured 
souls. Hell is a fraud ; a pagan lie ; a spiritual 
thug : a mental bandit ; a pickpocket from away 
back — and God never made such a place. If a 
man must be absolutely perfect before he gains an 
entrance to the kingdom of heaven, how many will 
be saved? Not one. Sweep the world to-day 
with a drag-net, in search of angels, and you 
would n't get a feather. Imperfect by nature : 
imperfect by education ; imperfect because of her- 
editary taint ; imperfect because of disease ; im- 
perfect because of the burdens we bear ; bowed 
with grief; chased by a thousand perils ; pinched 
hy poverty ; wounded by the treachery of false 
friends ; lacerated by the cruel tongues of enemies, 
poor, weak, wayward humanity sinks at the foot 
of the cross and pleads for mercy — not salvation 
from hell. 

Every man who has an honest heart and every 
mother who loves her waj^ward boy turns away at 
the mention of hell. All along the line, from the 
hewer of w^ood and the drawer of water, to the 
man who can analyze a sunbeam, the fear of hell 
decreases. Clergymen are required to preach the 
dreadful doctrine. It is wrong. Many worthy 
persons, who would be glad to work in the com- 
mon cause of humanity, are kept out of churches 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 33 

simply because they are told that there are infants 
in hell " only a span long," placed there by an 
irate God, because their fathers failed to pay the 
butcher and the shoemaker, and thus elected them 
to an endless life in the cauldron of the damned. 
(This doctrine is not as popular now as formerly, 
and infant punishment has been banished from 
some of the church disciplines.) 

The church of Christ will be crippled and pas- 
sive until the last vestige of this terrible doctrine 
disappears. Faith, hope, charity, music and poe- 
try are attributes of the soul, and if properly de- 
veloped lead men to high and honorable ways. 
High art is capable of carrying the soul away, in 
ecstasies of bliss. Sankey made the converts, 
while Moody turned the crank. The easiest and 
quickest way of breaking up a great revival of re- 
ligion is to get a circuit-rider, from down the creek, 
to preach a sermon on hell-fire ; that will settle it 
— the revival, I mean. 

Every refined and cultured man or woman shud- 
ders at the mention of hell ; it is a harsh word, fit 
only for the vocabulary of depraved creatures. The 
great-souled Emerson, who went among the com- 
mon people and helped to bear their burdens ; 
the idiomatic Tennyson, who has healed so many 
wounded hearts ; the polished Campbell, who 
thrills the human heart with his "Pleasures of 
Hope ;" the lamented Longfellow, who raised this 
nation heavenward ; and all the great and good 
people who smother the flames of hell and warm 

3 



34 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

the frozen heart of the world with love and music, 
without the aid of religious creeds, will be lost, ac- 
cording to this dreadful doctrine. Does any man 
believe it? Not one. People do not waste their 
time in this age in keeping out of hell — that is one 
of the lost arts. The trouble in these latter da3's 
is to believe that there is any hereafter of an}^ kind. 
The majority of people have no positive faith in 
regard to future life — they only hope to live again. 
The time is near at hand when teachers of the good 
book will seek only to develop the God-like qual- 
ities latent in the human breast ; when the good 
and noble will sit down at the same table and drink 
the precious wine of life from the grail of Christ 
together ; united as they should be in teaching the 
erring ones the better ways of life. It is a blessed 
thing to have hope of heaven ; to think that when 
the great sun sinks forever behind the hills, and 
the stars are blotted out, and the great moon dies, 
a kindly hand will reach out from the darkness, 
and lead us in triumph from the narrow ridge in 
the church-3^ard to everlasting life. 



THE GOOD SHEPHERD. 

The One who hears the raven's cry 
Will surely care for you and I, 

Tho' we may wander far ; 
And angels trace in books of gold 
Their love for us, and waiting hold 

The shining gates ajar. 

No danger lurks within the dark, 
If it be true that fond eyes mark 

The tiny sparrows fall ; 
And sure, my friend, forever then 
To God belongs the souls of men, 

And He will care for all. 

He is the Shepherd good and true, 
And guideth not a chosen few. 

But all to heaven's door ; 
Into the kingdom of the blest. 
Safe to the beautiful land of rest, 

Our home forevermore. 

Glad home to weary mortals giv'n, 
The brightest, dearest, sweetest heav'n, 

On earth so dim and fleet. 
Eternal home ! Abiding place ! 
Where soul to soul and face to face 

We dwell in love complete. 



CHAPTER IV. 

In its sublime research, philosophy 

May measure out the ocean-deep — may count 

The sands or the sun's rays — but God ! for Thee 

There is no weight nor measure — none can mount 

Up to thy mysteries. Reason's brightest spark, 

Though kindled by Thy light, in vain would try 

To trace Thy counsels, infinite and dark ; 

And thought is lost 'ere thought can soar so high. 

Even like past moments in eternity. — Derzhavin. 

I am that which is, and was, and shall be. No mortal hath 
lifted my veil. — Inscription on the ancient temple of Neitk. 

Thou art one and from thee all things proceed. — Inscription on 
the temple of Isis. 

For as water wets not the leaf of the lotus, so sin touches not 
him who knows God. — Hindoo Philosopher. 

You ma}^ believe in the incarnation of God in 
Christ, or not ; the hypostatic union may, or may 
not, meet your approval ; yet you can not free 
yourself from the idea of God and immortality. 
Man will continue to believe, until the end of time, 
that there is a great and tireless intelligence that 
controls the forces of the universe. That intelli- 
gence must be something grander than the ele- 
ments of nature, or the essence of force. Man 
can not, and dares not, believe that he exists with- 
out a soul ; if he could, it would be neither wise 
nor profitable for him to do so. He can not find 



o 



8 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 



the abiding-place of the Most High, nor even un 
derstand the m3^steries of the sun, moon and stars, 
and the splendid constellations that sweep and 
swing through space, unexplored, unexplained, 
majestic and full of nameless glory. It must be 
that somewhere in the illimitable vastness of space 
is situated the city of the great king. It may be 
the splendid stars that burn forever in the blue 
deeps are but glorified resting-places for the soul 
in its long flight — wayside inns or stepping-stones 
whereb}^ the immortal part of man may evolve 
into the soul of the ever-living presence, even as 
mountain streams and rivulets and great rivers 
peacefully join the waters of the mighty ocean. 

Is it meet and proper and in accordance with 
human wisdom to individualize God ; to theorize 
about divine option ; to enlarge upon the merits of 
Christ and to manufacture facts in regard to his 
life and death? 

Josephus, it seems, did not deem the crucifixion 
of Christ worthy of notice, but in the nineteenth 
century afterwards General Wallace, in his mag- 
nificent " Ben Hur," which is certainly a master- 
piece of American literature, gives an elaborate 
and minute portra3^al of that sad event ; not only 
eclipsing the stor}' as given by the Evangelists, 
in elegance of diction, but also adding to its detail 
some things of minor importance which escaped 
the eagle eyes of the early writers. 

Of course "Ben Hur " is oflfered as a literar}^ 
effort, 3^et it illustrates how easily the facts and eye 
witnesses mentioned in the New Testament might 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 39 

have been manufactured by the authors of that 
volume. The alleged assertions of Jesus do not 
prove him divine, because they are subject to dif- 
ferent interpretations, and many of them were 
probably coined after his death. His miracles do 
not prove him a God, because they lack confirma- 
tion and have a smack of jugglery ; his enthusias- 
tic disciples do not prove him a God, because they 
were undoubtedly infatuated ; the testimony of the 
apostolic fathers does not prove him a God, be- 
cause it is not reliable authority ; the misfor- 
tunes of the Jews do not establish his divinity, 
because other nations were dispersed and swal- 
lowed up in like manner, in fact the strength of 
the Jewish people waned from natural causes, and 
their long continued and multiplied disasters onl}' 
illustrates the truthfulness of the lamented Billings 
when he said : " When a man starts down hill he 
finds every thing greased for the occasion," which 
is true of nations as well as men. 

But let us talk of the Mighty One, who holds 
the universe in the hollow of his hand, and, though 
unseen, showers blessings at the feet of men. Ec- 
clesiastes calls him Almighty; Maccabees names 
him the Creator ; Herbert Spencer calls him the 
Great Energv ; in Ephesians he is Liberty ; in 
Psalms, Wisdom and Truth ; in Kings, Lord ; in 
Exodus, Providence ; in Leviticus, Holiness ; in 
Esdras, Justice. One of our learned statesmen 
called him the Fountain of all the Forces ; Baruch, 
the Prophet, calls him Inimensity ; Tennyson names 
him the Great Intelligence ; the wisest man, ac- 



40 PHANTASMAGORIAX THEOLOGY. 

cording to Scripture, names him Compassion ; 
scientific men call him the First Cause ; the cate- 
chism calls him Love ; humanity calls him Joy, 
Peace and Eternal Rest ; North American Indians 
call him the Great Spirit ; Jews call him x\donia : 
John calls him Light; he is Elohim, persons 
adorable ; he is Jehovah, self- existing; he is 
El, Strong^ Powerful; Ehieh, / ani^ I will be^ 
Self -existence^ Inde-pendence^ All-siifficiency ^ Im- 
mzdability, Ete7'nity ; Shaddai, Ahnighty, All- 
sufficient; Adon, Sufforter^ Lord^ Judge; Roch- 
u:m, the Merciful Being; Chanum, the Gracious 
One; Yj^v.c Kvkyym^ the Long Suffering; Rab, ^/z^ 
Great or Mighty One ; Chesed, the Bountiful One; 
Emeth, the True One ; Notsek Chesed, the Pre- 
server of Bountifulness ; Nose Avon Vapesha 
Vechataah, He who bears away Iniquity^ Trans- 
gression^ and Sin; Nakeh Lo Yinnakeh, the 
Righteous fudge; he is the great Brahm of the 
Hindoos ; the Allah of Mahometans ; the Buddha 
of the Buddhists ; the Isis and Osiris of the Egypt- 
ians ; the Moloch of the Ammonites ; the Demiur 
gus and the Bythus of the Gnostics. He is higher 
than the gods of ancient Greece or Rome, and 
stands behind law and force. He is the author 
and will be the finisher of our faith. He is a 
mighty love and was manifest in Christ, even as 
he is manifest to-day in the lives of the noble and 
virtuous. He is the mystery of mysteries ; the 
secret of all secrets ; the magnificent pearl for 
which all men search in vain — a theory which can 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THKOLOGY. 4 1 

not be demonstrated ; a fact, established by faith 
alone. 

Life is so brief; so much to do — so little done ; 
how can we understand God or his plans and pur- 
poses when we fail to comprehend our own exist- 
ence? All the philosophy of the past; all the 
wisdom of the sages serve to elevate civilization 
but fail to reveal the unknown God. From the dark 
eternity of the past man was evolved, into the dark 
eternity of the future he sinks ; he wonders why 
and reasons about it, but during a lifetime gathers 
no infallible information in regard to the great 
source and center of life ; in fine, he knows but 
little about time and nothing at all about eternity. 
How absurd then, it is, for clergymen to tell what 
we should do in order to reach heaven. The 
promptings of man's better nature are better guides 
than creeds and dogmas, but man needs training 
and discipline such as he can only find in organ- 
ized efforts. Nature tells us of birth, life and res- 
urrection, decay, change and death, and darkly 
hints at annihilation. But man, who is so "fear- 
fully and wonderfully made," has nourished the 
seeds of eternal life implanted in his being. Hope 
whispers of better things than this life affords and 
somehow the God idea remains, not onl}^ unshaken, 
but is becoming stronger as the ages roll away. 
Atheists and skeptical writers and thinkers have 
done much to advance the cause of Christianity by 
assaulting its fallacies and brazen assumption. 
Christianity has assimilated the good of infidelity, 
by exposing its sophistries and weaknesses, and by 



42 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

SO doing has forced its advocates to rise above the 
vagaries of old-time writers of sceptical isms. 

The great infidels, sceptics and heretics of the 
Avorld have done a noble work in the cause of civ- 
ilization. They are among the noblest of earth : 
Thayles, Pherecydes, Pvthagoras, Chauvin, Bol- 
lingbroke, Herbert, Blount, Josephus, Collins, 
Morgan, Shaftsbur}^ Socrates, Heraclitus, Celes- 
tius, Hume, Gibbon, Carlyle, Paine, Pelagius, 
Ocellus Lucanus, Aristotle, Epicurius, Machiavel, 
Spinoza, Hobbes, Vauine, Voltaire, Ingersoll, 
Herbert Spencer, Rosseau, T3'ndall, Spensippus, 
Arcesilaus, Carneades, Huxley, Wallace, Darwin, 
Beecher, Solomon, Cerinthus, Celsus, Hierocles, 
Antonius, Lucian, Charles Bradlaugh, Lessing, 
Shakspeare, Socinus, Plato, Ebion, Mirabeau, 
Frothingham, the Duke of i\rgyle, Swedenborg, 
Humboldt, La Place, Bruno, Counte, Diderot, 
Carpocrates, Nicholas of Antioch, Epictetus, the 
Stoics, and even the sweet and gentle souls of 
Burns, Goethe, Edwin Arnold, Schiller, Beethoven, 
and Wagner have laid their gracious offerings at 
the shrine of human affection. 

All these and legions of other sceptical writers 
and sages who have felt the stings of detraction and 
criticism, and endured the insults of the rabble, 
have not onh^ contributed largely to the literature 
of the world but their ideas will be mighty factors 
of that perfect civilization towards which the world 
is moving. The lives of some of these men were 
open to and deserve criticism. Many of them 
were "dnreasonable and fanatical ; but they were 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 43 

only human, and in their weak, human way said 
and did many foolish things. Many of them were 
pioneers of true philosoph}^, and laid the founda- 
tions of modern philosophy. Their books are 
found in first-class libraries and their ideas per- 
meate the social fabric of the world. The philos- 
opher of to-day does not array himself against the 
philosophy of the ancients, although he is the 
" heir of all the a<xes." The world can not afford 
to discard the wisdom of the sages of the past — it 
is too valuable to throw away. Some of them 
claimed to be atheists, but in serving mankind 
were probably doing the will of God. Why 
should any one speak ill of them? Humanity has 
gained the great thoughts and doctrines of these 
men and will continually expand, add to, adorn 
and beautify their good and gracious ideas until 
the entire race is turned heavenward. Man}- 
Christs have arisen, and of course they were con- 
sidered false Christs by all except their immediate 
followers. I speak of this because the God idea 
and the Christ idea are held inseparable b}^ many 
persons. As a matter of fact each Christ has 
either proclaimed himself a god or has been an- 
nounced as such by his followers. We have onh^ 
to turn a few pages of history to learn the names 
of these celestial pilots and adventurers. 

Jesus Christ was a human deity because human- 
ity chose to centralize the God idea and worship 
something tangible ; Barcocaba claimed that he 
w^as the Messiah of the Jews, 130 years after Christ, 
and gathered about him two hundred thousand 



44 PK-\>rTA?MAGQRL\X THEOLOGY. 

followers, who waged war on Adrian's forces, in 
consequence of which six hundred thousand Jews 
bit the dust. 

Simon Alaoiis, the Samaritan, was announced 
as the Supreme God, and neariv all the people of 
Samaria worshiped him. Simon gave out that 
he was the true Christ, and said he would prove it 
bv making a public ascension from earth to the 
skies without aid from anv human source. Saint 
Peter and Saint Paul, both being present at the 
time of the proposed ascension, praved for a fail- 
ure (so the storj' goesj, and Simon ha\'ing risen 
high in the air, tumbled down and was fatally in- 
jured bv the fall. This man. whose trick was to 
pull himself into the clouds bv the straps of his 
boots, was regarded as a supreme being, and a 
great and costly statue was erected to him at 
Rome, where he had mam- followers. 

In the reign of Theodosius, 434 years after 
Christ, one Moses Cretensis. persuaded the people 
of Crete that he was the second ^Nloses sentbv God 
to deliver the people. He had an immense follow- 
ing, and the people had unbounded faith m him. 
He promised to di^-ide the sea and allow them to> 
pass through it dr\- shod, and on a certain day led 
them to a high bluff above the sea and told them ta 
I'ump : they were brave men. and so thev jumped. 
Large numbers were drowned, and the terriiied 
Moses fled for parts unknown. 

During the reign of Justin. A. D. 520, an impos- 
tor named Dunaan appeared, and claimed to be 
the son of Moses, divinely inspired to persecute 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 45 

Christians. Alter a short and checkered career 
he was killed by a benevolent gentleman from 
Ethiopia. The Jews and Samaritans rebelled and 
placed Julian on the throne and proclaimed him 
the Messiah A. D. 529. The Emperor brought a 
large army against them, killed vast numbers and 
beheaded Julian. 

Serenus, A. D. 721 , proclaimed himself Messiah, 
and large multitudes follow^ed him. 

A Christ arose in France A. D. 1137, who, with 
his followers were immediately put to death. 

In Persia a Jewish Messiah arose and collected 
about him an immense army A. D. 1138. He was 
killed and many of his followers were tortured and 
put to death. 

In A. D. 1 157 a cranky individual appeared at 
Corduba, Spain, and claimed to be the long-ex- 
pected Messiah of the Jews, and nearly all the 
Jews in the nation believed and worshiped him. 
All the Jews in Spain were destroyed by the war 
caused by this man. 

In A. D. 1 167 a false Christ arose in the king- 
dom of Fez — wherever that may have been — and 
the Jews suffered great persecution on his account. 

In A. D. 1167 one arose w4io claimed to be a 
prophet sent from God. He was an Arabian, and 
asked to have his head cut off in order that he 
might be able to expose the mystery of the resur- 
rection, claiming that he would immediately arise. 
His request was kindly granted, but from some 
cause the enterprise was a failure. 

A Jew, shortly after the last mentioned date, 



¥ 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 



who lived beyond the Euphrates, claimed to be 
Christ, and that he had been cured of leprosy in a 
single night. As usual, large multitudes of Jews 
followed him and w^ere persecuted in consequence. 

In A. D. 1 1 74 a magician and false Christ arose 
in Persia and secured a following among the peo- 
ple. Of course the Jews were brought into tribu- 
lation. 

David Almusser, in Moravia, A. D. 1176, pre-" 
tended to be divine and that he could make himself 
invisible. Some one made him entirely invisible, 
probably with a saber, and the government not 
knowing what else to do laid a heavy line on the 
Jews. 

David el David, a learned man and magician, 
in A. D. 1 199, arose in Persia, claiming to be the 
Messiah. He raised a great army against the 
king ; of course he was killed, and large numbers 
of Jews butchered for taking sides with him. 

Rabbi Lemlen, a Dutch Jew of Austria, in A. 
D. 1500, declared himself a forerunner of the Mes- 
siah to come. 

In A. D. 1615 a false Christ arose in the East 
India and was followed largely by Portugese 
Jews. Another, 1624, declared himself to be the 
Messiah of the family of David, and of the line of 
Nathan. He promised to destroy Rome, the king- 
dom of Antichrist, and the Turkish Empire; but 
the contract was too great. 

In A. D. 1666 came the turbulent Sabatai Tzevi. 
He gained a large following and caused the Jews 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 47 

great trouble, but finally turning traitor to his own 
cause was very properly beheaded. 

Rabbi Mordecai, a Jew of Germany, played the 
Christ act in 1682. He was pronounced an im- 
postor and saved his life by taking up a permanent 
residence in Poland. 

Joseph Smith, the Mormon prophet, pretending 
to be ordained by God to establish the Church of 
Latter Day Saints, made a Bible to suit himself, 
and his followers established a loathsome sect 
which now swarm like vermin on the beautiful 
hills and in the lovely valleys of splendid Utah. 
They have grown strong, and much of their 
strength lies in the adjacent territories. The Mor- 
mon people worship the memory of Joseph Smith 
— he is their "risen Lord," and they sit "like 
Rome on her seven hills of beauty" and defy the 
world. But be it said to the honor and glory of 
America that polygamy is on the wane. 

El Madhi, the famous false prophet, gathered a 
mighty army around him and held the flower of 
the English army at bay, and roasted them on the 
burning sands of the Soudan. Death alone con- 
quered him, and his followers worship him to-day 
as fervently as Christendom worships Jesus Christ. 

It seems that the Jews have been peculiarly un- 
fortunate in selecting their Christs, and in rejecting 
the meek and lowly" Nazarene were perhaps guided 
by the instinct of the race ; that is, to make no con- 
tract unless an immense bargain is apparent. They 
were ready to receive a Messiah provided he ap- 
peared in a golden chariot, accompanied by a royal 



48 PHAXTASMAGORJL\X THEOLOGY. 

retinue, loaded with costly trappings, a lauda- 
ble desire : elevate the Je\vish nation and advance 
the price of real estate : therefore thev could see 
no bargain in the young mechanic who came to 
them in such a cheap way. So thev killed him, 
and were afterwards scattered over the face of the 
earth. Some of them opened clothing-stores, others 
sold cheap iewelr\-. and the balance loaned monev 
at twentA'-hve per cent. Probablv manv of them 
believed thev had murdered the true Messiah, 
^which mav have caused their descendants to ac- 
cept am' kind of a neighborhood Christ, if they 
were desirous of atonincr for the sins of their an- 
cestors. It is quite probable, however, that the 
Jews will never tind a richer bargain than their 
forefathers rejected, for the nations w hich accepted 
Jesus Christ have been exalted above all other na- 
tions. Difficult as it is for humanity- to separate 
the God idea from the Christ idea, it is quite ob- 
vious that the two are not one. The divinit}' of 
Jesus Christ was an invention of the human brain, 
while the God idea is innate. 

The soul triumphs over matter at death, and thus 
liberated mav seek higher plains of development. 
or spring to the source of all life swifter than the 
eagle : or. perciiance. it may tarr\- here guarding 
its earthlv treasures and becoming better fitted for 
a his/her life. AA'e know absolutelv nothincr in re- 
gard to such theories. AVe can onlv surmise on 
possibilities ; let us, therefore, be prudent and ^^*ise 
lest our thoughts brinor harm to those we love. 
Mankind is con\-inced that God lives and rules, 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 49 

and certainly no one would be so unkind as to 
take from the suffering ones of earth the sweet and 
sustaining hope of immortality and life beyond the 
tomb. Like a dreadful dream seems the history 
of the human race, baptized as it has been in the 
blood of every nation. Amidst their burnino- tem- 
pies and overturned altars ; through ruined prov- 
inces and desolated kingdoms ; driven from place 
to place ; with dire disaster and quick calamity fol- 
lowing their footsteps, the people never lost faith 
in that God who leads and directs the nations ; 
through it all his face was just beyond the clouds. 
God is a sweet, pursuasive voice that comes across 
the centuries from the vestibules of time, filling the 
ages with music, sublim.e and wonderful. The 
f agle bears upon its broad shoulders its timid fledg- 
ling from a high mountain home to the warm val- 
ley below, and the young eagle is safe in its rapid 
flight. So the soul is borne aloft on tireless wrings, 
rejoicing in the sunlight, safe and secure in a 
strength it can not comprehend. In our weakness 
we feel the strong arms of a father about us ; in 
hours of despondency and doubt we hear the "silent 
voice," like music stealing throug^h a dream. We 
know him by faith and hope, but can not under- 
stand ; we live, and love, and suffer, and die, and do 
not bind our hearts to chance or destin3^,but to God — 
our God whose tread is on the bosom of the wind and 
whose voice is in the whirlwind. Our finite minds 
can not approach the infinite one ; there is a gulf 
between man and God which faith alone can span. 

4 



50 PHANTASMAGORIAX THEOLOGY. 

Iftherebeno God a greater mvster}^ remains, 
because man with all his God-like qualities exists 
without a reason why — except that he was evolved 
from chaos to subdue the earth. If he has fulfilled 
a splendid mission, is there no recompense offered 
by the same laws that brought him up through an 
endless round of suffering? Let us believe that 
evolution evolves angels as well as men, and that 
the laws which produced man are controlled by 
supreme intelligence. 

Oh God of the lonely and God of the desolate ! 
God of the widow and fatherless I whose ineffable 
glory fills the world and makes life endurable ; in 
Thee w^e find peace and a place of refuge ; without 
Thee we lose the path, and lions appear in our 
way, so that we must be destroyed in the wilder- 
ness, or find Thee ; Thou art always near enough 
to save and protect ; near enough to save us from 
our sins and protect us from the ravages of doubt 
and despair. In our weakness we cling to Thee 
and find strength : in Th}' majesty Thou art greater 
than the rulers of earth ; in Thy tenderness and 
beauty, and love, we find a peace that surpasses 
human understanding. Humanity calls and Christ 
answers ; Christ calls from our souls and God an- 
swers. Oh, God of love, in Thee \\e rest our 
cause : accept our weary bodies, our wounded 
lives, our famished souls, our broken hearts — these 
are all we have to ofier. 



I 



AX EASTER SONG. 

Oh Mighty One in whom we trust, 
Who saved our souls and from the dust 

Bade men arise and seek a better way ! 
Thou art the Mighty One to save, 
The only gleam beyond the grave ; 

Dear Sjn of God we love Thee more to-day. 

Oh Lord who died and lived again. 

And told the world where Thou had'st been, 

Who burst the gate that sealed an awful doom, 
And whilst the weary soldiers slept, 
And as the night winds round Thee crept, 

Was led in kingly triumph from the tomb. 

Then in the dim and holy light, 
From out the grieving air of nigh*: 

A faithful Mary sought Thy kindly face, 
And with a great love all complete 
Did rain her tear-drops on Thy feet, 

And knew that love could have no resting-place. 

To-day we wander here and there 

With those who loved Thee best — and where 

Thy tread was on the bosom of the wind. 
Where breezes sang in tender tones, 
And all the stars were stepping-stones 

For Thee to leave the world and human kind. 

Alas, alas, if I could know — 
And yet — and yet — it must be so ; 

For dust and gloom can never hold the dead ; 
Until I draw my latest breath, 
And pass the frowning gates of death, 

I '11 walk the splendid way where He hath led. 



CHAPTER V. 

Do we teach that he should stretch his hand to the ship- 
wrecked; show his path to the wanderer; divide his bread with 
the hungry? I could briefly deliver to him the formula of human 
duty; all this that you see, in which things divine and human are 
included, is one : we are members of one body. — Seneca., 

Eighty and six years have I now served Christ, and He has 
never done me the least wrong ; how then can I blaspheme my 
King and my Savior? — Polycarp. 

So far as the immortality of the soul is concerned 
it is of small account whether Moses wrote five 
books, or none, of the Old Testament. It matters 
not whether Jonah was swallowed by a whale or 
not ; Joshua may or may not have caused the sun to 
stand still while he fought in the valley of Aija- 
lon ; Noah may have navigated above the world 
and made himself a party to the divine scheme of 
drowning sinners — but it matters not. The written 
history is meager and unsatisfactory ; fragmentar}^ 
and disjointed ; indefinite centuries are locked up 
in a single sentence ; cycles of time are compressed 
in a nutshell of syllables ; epochs are branded with 
a line ; ages of development live and die in a verse ; 
kingdoms and principalities go down in a phrase ; 
armies and nations are swallowed up in a single 
chapter, and the Book of Genesis, including at 
least twenty-four hundred years of the history of 



54 PHANTASMAGORIAX THEOLOGY. 

the race, if printed in pamphlet form would make 
a book no larger than the ordinary patent medicine 
almanac. 

The kings and rulers of antiquitv were very, 
very powerful : the warriors were verv. verv brave : 
the wise men were verv. verv wise ; the common 
people were very, verv common : manv long ages 
passed away in which rulers cared onlv to conquer 
and destroy : warriors pillaged, plundered and 
massacred without mercv : common people were 
brutalized ; the wisdom of the wise was interred 
with the bones of the sages — this is what we learn 
from the inspired writers in recf-ard to the earlv 
historv of the race. The records of the beginning 
were written in the sands, and nearlv obliterated, 
but Mi)ses gathered together the floating bits of 
tradition and scraps of legendarv lore, which 
he made imperishable. It is well for the human 
race that he did so, for with Moses at one end and 
Christ at the other end and the human race inter- 
vening, civilization has reached its present high 
standard. There are problems of more importance 
to the people of Christendom than the authenticity 
of r^Ioses" account of creation. His assertions, 
assumptions and affirmations are somewhat start- 
ling, but it is neither profitable nor wise to discuss 
them, with a view of arrivino' at the exact ti*uth. 
A few moments' thougrht will convince anv man 
that Christ is the foundation of the Christian re- 
lio-ion. and if He be less than a God. the fabric of 
the gospel should be changed lest it crumble with 
its own weight. What evidence have we that 



I 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 55 

Christ was a God? About nineteen hundred years 
ago, Jesus of Nazareth was born, in the usual way, 
undoubtedly ; but we are taught that he was the 
begotten son of the living God. Do you believe 
in the miraculous conception of Christ? If you do 
not, then 3^ou admit that he was but a man. Re- 
member that it was fashionable in those days for 
rulers and wise men to be announced as the pro- 
duct of miraculous conception. This is a matter 
of history. The Jews were probably the intellect- 
ual monarchs of the age, and they ignored Jesus. 
The Jews of to-day aver that He never claimed to 
be more than human, and that His disciples ad- 
vanced the idea of Messiahship. 

Josephus, the great historian of the time, failed 
to give any detail of the life of Christ; only a few 
lines in his voluminous writinccs are devoted to the 
great master. These are very unsatisfactory, and 
eminent authority says they were not written by 
Josephus, but by a Roman Catholic bishop long 
years after the death of the great author. Chris- 
tians of early centuries are classed as men 'and 
women of the lowest type, and were belabored 
unmercifully by ancient writers. Hireocles, Taci- 
tus, Suetonius, the Stoics and the better class of 
philosophers were extremely bitter against them. 
Saint Mark and Saint Peter dwelt among the low- 
est down and most disreputable people of Rome. 
Peter and Paul were executed on a charge of arson, 
and most of them, when placed on trial, denied 
their allegiance to Christianity. 

Why did the doctrines of the Lowly One finally 



56 PHAXTASMAGORIAX THEOLOGY. 

triumph? Because the time had arrived for the 
inauguration of a new rehgion, and whv should 
not the carpenter of Xazareth be the one chosen 
to establish it? or what objection could be raised 
if he \vas self-appointed, like the camel driver of 
Mecca, to lift up a new banner of hope for suffer- 
ing humanity. After all, the Christ idea was a 
matter of education ; mam' centuries before the 
birth of the Savior the mothers of Israel beo-an to 
sino' of the Christ to be. and tell their children of 
the glory and power of the Lion of the tribe of 
Judah, who would break every chain and deliver 
their souls from bondage. From the dawn of life 
until its sunset man heard and talked of a Messiah ; 
when the time was ripe for the fulfillment of proph- 
ecy-, is it anv wonder the Christ idea was heredi- 
tary ? The people expected a Christ, but the Jews 
were not readv to receive the Christ, and Jesus of 
Nazareth became a wanderer upon the face of the 
earth. Bringing about him a few disciples '* He 
went about doing good.*' and teaching the world 
a valuable code of morals. He dealt a fatal blow 
to some of the doctrines of Judaism and its wicked 
priests hated Him. After a long while the people 
learned to love him. and for nearly nineteen hun- 
dred years the good maothers of Christendom have 
permeated the very soul of their ofispring with 
stories of the glorified Redeemer. The grandest 
and best songs ever sung have been sung to the 
honor and glory of Jesus ; kings and queens and 
great rulers of the earth have laid their scepters 
and crowns in the dust at His feet, and called Him 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 57 

Lord of all. The broken-hearted and distressed 
have centered the unknown power in darkness in 
the body of Christ. The human heart beats in 
unison with the silver chords of hope ; humanity 
needs a lamp for its darkened pathw^ciy, therefore 
W'C cling to the cross and know no way to heaven 
except through the door which Christ has left ajar. 
Christian people, those in wdiom no shadow of 
doubt can arise in regard to the divinitv of Christ, 
are truly blest ; they find refui>'e in Him when life 
is dark ; they see His face in the rising sun and 
hear His voice in the trailing wind ; withered au- 
tumn leaves and garnered sheaves tell them of 
change — not of death. Jesus Christ was evidently 
a close observer of passing events and a good 
reader of character, for he knew that Judas was a 
traitor and Peter a great liar. These deficiencies 
of their characters were plain to him, and it needed 
no eye stronger than the human eye to discern 
them. What an awful feeling of loneliness and 
despair must have filled the broken heart of the 
Great Master when his boasting disciples de- 
serted him in the darkest hour of his life, when 
human aid and friendship would have been the 
sweetest. 

Centuries ago one glad morning it was pro- 
claimed that Christ had risen from the dead, and 
this assertion is accepted as literal truth by the 
Christian w^orld. It is further stated that Jesus 
ascended to heaven in the presence of His disci- 
ples and a few others. Say what you will ; pro- 
duce the half- forgotten lore of the wise " fathers ; " 



58 • PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

bring all the theories of the learned ; wipe the dust 
from every book written on the "evidences of 
Christianity;" bring the Holy Bible itself and lay 
them all down at the feet of the Virgin Mar}^ and 
yet the mere assertion of these infatuated followers 
of Christ is the onl}^ evidence that the Savior act- 
ually arose from the dead and ascended bodily 
into heaven, but the Christians of civilization still 
believe that the Great Master was borne away on 
the bosom of the winds, and that the glad stars 
w^ere stepping-stones by which He reached the city 
of God. The religion of Jesus Christ is the best 
stairway to a future existence ; it teaches that man 
is on probation here ; that earth is a part of heaven, 
and at death the soul rouses from a troubled sleep 
to enter a land of perpetual song and sunshine. 

To most men life is a curse ; to the best favored 
its pleasures are brief. If death brings eternal life, 
void of suffering, the human heart says " amen." 
If it brings eternal sleep it is well, for in the grave 
we can suffer no longer. 

Has any one read the biographv of Christ as 
given in the New Testament and hnalh' believed 
that He w^as the begotten Son of God? Christians 
will chorus " Yes ; " their credulity being so great 
that it would be a sin for them to question the faith 
of the forefathers. But it is certainl}^ quite difficult 
for an}^ man who dares to search after the truth to 
believe that Jesus was more than a God-like man. 
There are men into whose hands a most sacred 
trust has been committed — that of training the soul 
for a conflict with sin : their minds flow forever in 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 59 

narrow channels and feed only the few who stand 
on the banks ; champions of overworn creeds and 
threadbare dogmas ; they love the sunshine and 
dread the storm, and never allow the w^aters of 
salvation to leap the banks of creed and water the 
desert beyond. There are men w^ho sneer at the 
development of the soul and expand on the vic- 
tories of brawn and brain as if the soul was not 
'^ of more value than meat and drink." There are 
men who sneer at fallen women as if Christ had 
not said, "Let who is without sin cast the first 
stone." 

Jesus Christ was a brave, honorable man, whose 
soul was as pure as the soul of some saintly wo- 
man ; who was hunted like a wild beast, mobbed 
and murdered, because He dared to raise His voice 
against Judaism. Christ, the heretic ! Christ, the 
stainless ! Christ, the lion-hearted monarch of civ- 
ilization ; a friend to humanity, but an uncompro- 
mising foe to the clergymen of His day. It is be- 
cause He suffered that we love Him ; driven from 
place to place by the ignorant mob ; deserted b}' 
His noisy disciples : broken-hearted, bleeding, and 
betrayed ; bitten by the viper He had warmed to 
life in His bosom ; arraigned and acquitted by the 
judge but condemned by the jury on circumstantial 
evidence ; dying in the vigor of a glorious man- 
hood to defend the words of His mouth and the 
meditations of His heart — brave man and noble 
philosopher I 

His cross will stand forever in the solid rock, 
pointing men to a higher civilization and better 



6o 



PHAXTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 



ways ; saving souls from the degradation of sin, 
and teaching men to love one another even as He 
lias loved them. We do not understand Him as 
the Messiah, the Annointed, the Mediator, the In- 
tercessor, the Advocate, the Judge, the Son of 
God, or the Lamb of God : but as King of Kings 
and Lord of Lords, The Way, The Truth, The 
Light of the World, our Savior and Redeemer, our 
elder brother. He speaks through the vanished 
years and gives us hope of immortality. 

The Church of Christ is an organized effort, 
therefore it is a success — organized efforts are 
usuallv successful, but the clergv of to-day do not 
represent the true character of Christ, when they 
exhibit Him as an iron-hearted jailor, with a tint 
of brimstone on His garments, and the kevs of 
darkness in His right hand. But thev will not 
always preach as they do ; already the broad- 
guage, double track, double-turreted heretics within 
their ranks are winning the congregations away 
from the conservative ideas of the church, and 
time is ripe for the second coming of ^Martin 
Luther. 

x\fter all, it is Christ's humanitv that makes Him 
so dear to us. Human love is better than divine 
love : the voice of wife, mother, sister, father, 
daughter, son, or brother is sweeter to the ears of 
a dvino; man than the strains of celestial music 
sweeping from the gates of the unknown city : the 
prattle of little children at plav is dearer than 
the murmur of the cr^^stal waves of the River of 
Life : the majestv of the solemn constellations, the 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 6l 

.beauty of dawn, and the grandeur of sunset are 
not as sustaining as the light of love that flashes 
from tender eyes of the One who is dearer than all. 
Jesus died in the cause of humanity, and it is a 
great thing in the eyes of the world for a man to 
die a martyr in any worthy cause — and any cause 
is deemed worthy by its advocates. From the 
corridors of the past the blood of martyrs flows like 
.a river, and the student of historj^ turns away with 
a sigh as he reads of the causes and creeds in 
which and for which many have died martyrs. 
But men who are willing to suffer death for opin- 
ion's sake, who consent to be torn by wild beasts, 
have their eyes burned out, swallow melted lead, 
to be stoned to death, burned at the stake, or 
nailed to the cross, are certainly brave men and 
terribly in earnest. Jim Bledsoe, whose ghost 
went up to heaven "in the smoke of the Prairie 
Belle," died that others might live ; therefore, he 
was a martyr. Thousands of such sleep in un- 
known graves, names and deeds alike forgotten. 
Men have suffered death in its most agonizing 
forms to the honor and glory of gods of silver and 
gold ; the}^ have laid their lives down at the feet 
of brazen gods and gods of wood and clay ; they 
have died in the cause of truth, and just as freely 
in the cause of error ; but the greatest of all are 
those who lay their lives down to alleviate the suf- 
ferings of humanity. Jesus mingled His tears with 
the tears of the suffering ones, and His great soul 
was burdened with grief on account of the sorrows 
of His people. He has taken burdens from many 



62 PHAXTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

weary ones. He scatters sunbeams at the portals 
of the grave, and flowers on the threshold of eter- 
nity. He was " a man of sorrows and acquainted 
with grief." And what a wonderful pathos is 
found in his sad lament: " Foxes have holes, and 
birds of the air have nests ; but the Son of Man 
hath not where to lay His head." When the cruel 
spear of the soldier was withdrawn from His side 
the blood and water of a broken heart followed. 
Civilization was redeemed. Wonderful love I 
Matchless manhood ! Was He a man or was He 
a God ? The strong veil of the temple was rent in 
twain ; but did it reveal to man a positive proof of 
immortality? Alas! the problem remains un- 
solved. 

But are the achievements of brain and heart to 
be laid forever in the dust? Is there no God to 
remember the saintly women who watch and weep 
at the bedside of starving children, or the brave 
men who struggle with disease, and oppression, and 
death in order that their little ones may not suffer? 
Shall broken hearts find no resting place except 
the grave ? Must the seal of silence rest unbroken 
on the lips of the dead? Will our " darling dead" 
never come again? Shall those who sleep in the 
sea and those who sleep under the clods of the 
valley be left in eternal gloom? 

The lamp of life shall not go out in darkness. 
Hope will not have it so. Faith is weak, but hope 
will lead us- through the dark valley, and in some 
far away ''isle of Avilion" the soul shall have its 
wounds healed and its strength renewed. 



CHAPTER VI. 

There is but one book in the world — the Bible. 

— Sir Walter Scott. 

Young man, attend to the voice of one who has possessed a 
certain degree of fame in the world, and will shortly appear before 
his maker — Read the Bible every day of your life. — Dr. Johnson. 

The Bible is pre-eminently the book of all books ; 
eclipsing the wisdom of the Shastars, the oracles 
of Zoroaster, the morals of Confucius, the frag- 
ments of Manetho, the similitudes of Demophilis, 
the laws of Solon and Lycurgus, the grandeur of 
Homer, the wealth of the voyages of Hanno, the 
logic of Shakespeare, or the beauty of the songs 
of Ossian. Pythagoras, Hesiod, Pindar, Eschy- 
lus, Sophocles, Aristophanes, Ariosto, Dante, 
Isocrates, Lucian, Longinus, Euclid, Xenophon, 
Plutarch, Virgil, and all the intellectual giants of 
past ages, were not superior to the authors of the 
Old Testament ; and it is at least very singular 
that the book of Job, which is probably the most 
ancient piece of literature in the world, should oc- 
cupy, as it does, a foremost place in the literature 
of all the ages. But, notwithstanding its superior- 
ity over all other books, the Bible is of human ori- 
gin, and subject to all the frailties of the human 
heart and breiin. Humanity will pardon and for- 



64 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

get all the fallacies of the Bible when the doctrine 
■of inspiration, now waning, is forever laid aside. 
The authors of the Bible were not inspired, unless 
the inspiration came from that common source 
from which authors of all good books receive sup 
plies. It is an eas}^ matter to pardon the offenses 
and mistakes of mankind, but impossible to con- 
ceive how God could err in judgment or be defi- 
cient in wisdom. 

As a matter of fact, the Bible would be sufficient 
for all practical purposes if denuded of its wraps 
of divinit}' ; and a large arm}' of clergymen who 
are now engaged in trying to harmonize things 
that will not harmonize, and trjnng to explain 
things that admit of no sensible explanation, would 
be at liberty to expend their mental, moral and 
phj'sical strength in the cause of Christ, w^hose 
mission was to lift humanity from the depths of 
vice and superstition. The influence of the Bible 
was never so great as it is to-day ; and one of the 
grandest triumphs of civilization is that this pre- 
cious and sanctifying influence has become stronger 
than the influence of priests, sweeter than the 
sophistries of infidelity, more pow^erful than igno- 
rance, master of superstition, and the aggressive 
enemy of sin and immorality. It is not safe to say 
that civilization was a direct result of the influence 
of the Bible, because evolution had ample time to 
produce a high civilization before civilization pro- 
duced a Bible. When Moses lifted his pen for the 
benefit of future ages the earth was wan with age ; 
and the great souls of the prophets and patriarchs 



I 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 65 

were filled with the grandest and noblest thoughts 
that ever permeated the world, ages before the in- 
ception of the Bible. 

The Bible is to civilization what the great sun is 
to nature. If the life-giving and sustaining quali- 
ties of either were destroyed or impaired quick 
disaster would follow. But the Bible, like the 
sun, is here to stay, and, like the sun, remains un- 
dimmed and unharmed by the flight of centuries. 
About it clings an odor of sanctity which will 
never be -dispelled. The reading of the Old Tes- 
tament gladdened the hearts of the people in the 
desert of Sinai, at Kadesh, at the crossing of Jor- 
dan, at Ebal, and Gerizim, and Shiloh. It was 
preserved with zealous care by the captive He- 
brews, by Samaritans and Jews, by the scribes, 
sages, wise ones, elders and doctors, by patriotic 
Pharisees, b}^ devout Essenes, and by all the 
learned men who consecrated their lives for the 
preservation of what we now enjoy without fear of 
loss. Written between the lines of the hol}^ book 
the Bible student will see the mighty Hezekiah, in 
his work of reform ; Ezra, the indefatigable col- 
later ; iTehemiah, forming his great synagogue ; 
Aquila, Theodotion, Symmachus, Paul of Tera, 
Ulphilas, Origen and Jerome, hard at work ; Lu- 
ther and his tutelary saints, Melancthon, Aurogal- 
lus, Bugenhagen, Jonas and Creuziger, in their 
untiring research after a correct translation ; Cae- 
dom, Bede, i\ldhem, Alfred the Great and Wyc- 
lifte, in their zealous eftbrts in disseminating 

5 



66 PHANTASMAGORIAX THEOLOGY. 

Scriptural truth ; the great Tindale, in prison and 
in the hands of his executioners ; the massacre of 
St. Bartholomew ; John Fry, Latimer, Ridley, 
Cranmer, Hooper and John Rogers at the stake ; 
Lady Jane Grey at the block ; Coverdale in prison, 
and William Roye murdered ; wicked Queen iMary 
butchering, burning and exiling Protestants : the 
scholars and divines selected by King James revis- 
ing the Old and New Testaments without pecuni- 
ar}^ compensation ; the great sufferings of one who 
"despised the shame" and suffered death; the 
crucified saints ; the dreadful holy wars ; the 
blood-stained record of Catholicism : the inhuman 
acts of kings and queens prompted b}^ brutal 
priests. Yes, the student will see these things as 
he reads, and hear the groans and lamentations of 
martyrs and saints who died to defend their cause ; 
but above all he sees the triumph of the gentle and 
beautiful Protestant faith, which dawned upon the 
world like a magnificent night-flowering cereus in 
the midnight of all the ages. 

Therefore, there is a mystic veil of sacredness 
about the Bible which will cling to it forever. As 
the battle-scarred and victorious hero is reverenced 
and worshiped by his people after many conflicts, 
so the Bible is regarded by christian people. But 
above all we kneel to it, and worship according to 
its dictates, and clasp it close and closer to our 
hearts, and call it sacred, and name it the word of 
God, because it is mother's Bible. No man can 
afford to sneer at his mother's Bible. Such an ac- 
tion would insure neither fame nor riches nor re- 



FHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 67 

spectability nor warm friendships. When the 
dark angel hovered near and bore away the purest 
and fairest gem of the household, who was as 
brave and saintly as mother? She sought relief, 
not in idle words and human counsel, but in the 
Bible. From it she gained peace and comfort in 
that dark hour, and, with her face all aglow with 
a strange light, and eyes dimmed with age and 
tears, traced a roadway straight from earth to 
heaven. 

When mother is gone, and business cares infest 
a man's existence, when his mind wanders back- 
ward to the days of youth, he hears the sweet in- 
tonations of that dear voice reading, reading, 
always reading, and reaching up through the soli- 
tudes of life, the gracious words of the Bible ; and 
with that aged form ever before him, and that 
sweet voice ever ringing in his ears, he says, " It 
is mother's Bible, and mother is more than all the 
world; therefore, it is my Bible." If the sacred 
books of other civilizations have the same environ- 
ments we can not wonder at their durability and 
wonderful influence. 

It is reall}^ absurd, and even laughable, to hear 
a man of brains and eloquence striving to prove to 
a mixed audience that Jonah was not swallowed 
by a whale, and that eternal punishment does not 
await the wicked ; but it is infinitely more ludi- 
crous to hear a modern parson striving to prove 
beyond a reasonable doubt that the whale actually 
bolted Jonah, and that hell is only a few feet under 
the pavement. What a waste of wind about small 



68 PHAXTASMAGORIAX THEOLOGY. 

matters I One strives to sustain his argument by 
brandincr the Bible •• a cunninorlv devised fable'' 
and altogether untrue, while the other seeks to im- 
press on the minds of his hearers the idea that God 
personally superintended and dictated the con- 
struction of everv sentence in the Bible, and, 
therefore, mistakes were impossible. 

When a man attacks the Bible he usuallv venti- 
lates and exposes his supreme ignorance and stu- 
pidity in regard to its contents and value. It is 
evidentlv true that a man who takes the stump 
against the Supreme Being should be well posted 
in regard to the truths and fallacies of Scripture. 
Certainlv it is humiliatinor for one to be oblio-ed to 
learn the Catechism after he has arraved himself 
against the prophets, patriarchs and apostles. 
Anv old ladv with a drab bonnet and a hope of 
everlasting life could teach these fierce and explo- 
sive exponents of the doctrines of infidelity sweet 
and wholesome lessons of Bible truth ; and it is 
exasperating and annoving to a learned and pol- 
ished infidel to be floored bv a wrinkled and with- 
ered piece of avoirdupois who is proud of nothing 
in this life except her sun-bonnet and knowledge 
of Scripture. 

During the past ages of the world a large num- 
ber of men have been seized with a frantic desire 
to demolish the Bible and allovr it to sink into 
oblivion. Xo sensible reason whv the Bible should 
be destroyed has been advanced by the desti*uc- 
tionists. They have had their ideas and theories 
all properly labeled and laid on the shelf for future 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. O9 

reference. The work of skeptics and infidels, 
however, is not to be undervalued. It has been 
of great assistance in purifying and exalting the 
♦great truths of the Bible, and for teaching correct 
morals independent of Scripture. 

The modern machine-made parson stands before 
a refined and intelligent congregation with an 
" air" which says : " Behold, I am what I am ! I 
have just escaped from a theological seminary, but 
think I will recover in time. I know more than 
you do, therefore you need not trouble yourselves 
about any of the statements of the Bible. I learned 
at the seminary how to harmonize an3^thing with 
everything. The original manuscript of the Bible 
was indited by God himself, and everything must 
harmonize with everything else, or the bottom will 
fall out of our holy religion ; and if the bottom falls 
out of our holy religion my salary stops ; and if 
my salary stops I will become as the plebeian, who 
is actually obliged to engage in manual labor for 
the support of his family. I am not one of your 
old-fashioned hand-made camp-meeting clergy- 
men. Oh, no ! I am the bishop's parrot ! I am 
smart ! If you don't believe it, ask me something 
hard to answer. Look at this bulletin board above 
my eyebrows, and see how powerful I am behind 
the ears. I have signed a contract not to say any- 
thing you haven't heard a thousand times, but re- 
member that the Bible says that who endureth to 
the end shall receive a great reward, or words to 
that effect." 

Gentle reader, you may not have heard these 



70 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

same words from the pulpit, but you have seen 
preachers whose general appearance would indi- 
cate as much. 

Clergymen are much like other folks, and as 
long as they conduct themselves properl}^ are enti- 
tled to the same courteous treatment vouchsafed to 
other honorable men, and no more. I make this 
statement not as a matter of news, but because 
preachers are never at par in any community, 
being always overestimated or greatly undervalued, 
according to the color of the sheep in the flock. 

Talmage has spoken sneeringly of the life work 
of George Eliot, but it does not injure the fame nor 
the mxoral effect of the writings of that gracious 
authoress ; but it reveals the fact that the volumi- 
nous Brookhm divine has never risen above the 
spiritual altitude of a circuit rider, and that the 
current of his being still sweeps through the narrow 
channel made in the backwoods of civilization by 
the hard-fisted and meagerh^ endowed pioneers of 
the christian religion. 

Preachers shun the world, and the world is glad 
of it. Personal and continuous contact with the 
clergy is not what a business man desires above 
all things. Unsaved sinners learn to regard 
preachers as well dressed nuisances, and preach- 
ers regard all sinners not properly registered as 
hornless devils. This blissful state of things was 
brought about by a mutual misunderstanding, 
wrong mental training and social environments. 

The bitter hatred between the church and the 
world has existed in all ages ; but at the present 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 7 I 

time it is waning, and sooner or later must suc- 
cumb to the sweet wooings of fraternal affection. 

The village preacher is the hero of strawberry 
festivals and quilting bees ; the pride of the good 
mothers of Israel ; sometimes an encyclopedia of 
wonders, and sometimes merely a dictionary of 
synonyms bound in calf. He is usually effeminate, 
and prefers female society to the grog-tainted at- 
mosphere of the masculine gender. As a natural 
sequence, he becomes highly elated with himself, 
and wonders, like "Yum Yum," how it happens 
that he is the "very sweetest creature in all the 
world.'' Sometimes he becomes very critical, 
looking upon sin with no degree of allowance. At 
this stage he is a nuisance, and forgets altogether 
that he is a man preaching to vitalized bundles of 
sin and iniquity on a salary. Next he becomes 
erratic, fanatical and eccentric. This is the second 
stage of decomposition, and he is a tiresome bore. 
Finally he is cranky ; and I think the very angels 
in heaven weep when the beauties and truths of the 
Bible are expounded by a cranky parson. Fre- 
quently, however, the modern preacher is a man 
above reproach, who, notwithstanding his effemi- 
nate character, is willing to endure privation, star- 
vation and misfortune for the cause he espouses ; 
keeping an ever vigilant eye and ear open to the 
necessities of his flock ; caring for the sick and 
distressed, and throwing the mantle of charity over 
the weakness and sins of his brother ; in fine, a 
man whose business in life is to do good and follow 
the example of his Lord and Christ. His winning 



72 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

ways and desire to relieve the sufferings of human- 
ity, his urbanity, his gentleness, his great fortitude 
and sweet serenity amid the storms and trials of 
life, and above all his unfaltering trust in that 
Christ he so eloquently extols, makes him an ever 
welcome guest in the family circle. Such men 
ornament their profession and protect it from the 
assaults of enemies, their influence hiding, in a 
measure, the deformities of the ones who burglar- 
ize the wardrobe of heaven and masquerade in the 
garbs of innocence. 

It can not be denied that the labor of priests has 
been a prime factor in the advancement of civiliza- 
tion. What the world needs is more preachers, 
more churches and more skeptics ; preachers with 
a desire to advance the beautiful doctrines of the 
Protestant faith, and wipe out and cast into eternal 
oblivion the hurtful doctrine of eternal punishment ; 
more churches that shelter the wayward and guard 
the lambs of the flock ; more skeptics to agitate 
and arouse the pugilistic qualities of the clergy, 
and to lend a helping hand in formulating the 
great religion of the future, which will be broad 
enough and holy enough and desirable enough to 
gather all men under one common standard. 
There is no institution known among men for the 
development and training of moral character as 
successful as the Sunday-school. It is the best 
result of Christianity, and Robert Raikes accom- 
plished more good for civilization than Napoleon, 
Hannibal or Cassar. 

The Bible will be wrested from the hands of its 



PHAN TASMAGORIAN THEOLOGV\ 73 

enemies by the combined influence of common 
schools, Sunday-schools and churches. The ene- 
mies of the Bible do not all array themselves under 
the banner of infidelity ; but some of the most bit- 
ter and rabid opponents of Scripture are found in 
the pulpit, preaching doctrines which are harmful 
and degrading ; declaring the glory of God to be 
the object of all creation, and love and mercy and 
reason matters of secondary importance. As if an 
infinite God could be glorified by finite creatures ! 
As if God was some vain and pompous monarch, 
pleased with flattery and sacrifice, soothed and 
sustained by the sufferings of his subjects ! Men 
who preach such doctrines are against the Bible 
and against Christ. But infidelity is progressing, 
and Christianity is progressing, and civilization is 
progressing. In consequence thereof congrega- 
tions are in advance of the clergy. But preachers 
are not as conservative as in olden times. Men 
are learning that there is more safety in the arts 
of peace than in the arts of war ; and mankind now 
anticipates the coming of that happy time when 
" the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leop- 
ard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf and 
the young lion and the fatling together, and a little 
child shall lead them. And the cow and the bear 
shall feed ; their young ones shall lie down to- 
gether ; and the lion shall eat straw like an ox." 

Civilization can never sink as long as it has the 
Bible as a foundation ; its tide can never recede as 
long as Christianity impels the stream ; its channel 
widens and deepens as the ages roll awa}', and it 



74 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

will make grander attainments and reach a higher 
degree of perfection than man has dared to dream. 

Whatever the grandem* of the coming civilization 
may be, it must of necessity rest upon the truths 
of the Bible ; if so, it could ill afford to spare the 
best results of its labor. The Bible must become 
as sacred to the infidel as to the christian if it be 
true that infidelitv seeks to better the condition of 
the human race. 

The Scriptural ignorance of infidels and the bit- 
ter intolerance of the clergy must in time ^^'ear 
away. When infidels learn to examine the Bible, 
and give its teachings due weight and credit, and 
when preachers are willing to rise above the iron- 
bound creeds and wicked dogmas of their relig- 
ions, and acknowledge the common brotherhood 
and common destin}- of the race, then will come 
the first beams of a perfect civilization. The reign 
of violence and hate is now past, and the might}' 
love of Jesus Christ has conquered and subdued 
the evil passions of the human heart and brain. 



THE WAIFS. 

In the calm and quiet hours 
When the dew is on the flowers, 

And the gentle stars do whisper overhead ; 
In the holy hush of even, 
When earth is like to heaven, 

And the bitter pangs of day are dull and dead- 
Then a mystic murmur sweeps. 
'Tis the voice of her who sleeps — 

Of a lovely one who leadeth me aright — 
One who guards my path by day, 
And who leads me far away. 

When in dreams I roam the corridors of night. 

I'm so happy and so blest 

When her babes are on my breast, 
For they love me, and they love as angels do ;. 

I can walk as rough a wave 

As the sea of life e'er gave 
If my arms encircle both, so good and true. 

Smiles of vice will never charm. 

Lurking foes can do no harm. 
For my darlings will not leave me anywhere^ 

When from out that silent land 

She doth come and take my hand, 
Singing always of the days that were so fair. 



CHAPTER VII. 

God keeps a niche in heaven 
In which to place our idols, 
Albeit He break them to our faces. 

—Mrs. A. D. Whitney. 

Often by the setting moon I see the ghosts of my children. 
Half viewless, they walk in mournful conference together. They 
do not regard their father. I am sad, O Cramor, nor small is the 
cause of my woe. — Ossian. 

In the highest sense, the temple and image of God are in the 
human nature of Christ ; and hence, also, in all the faithful who 
are animated by the spirit of Christ, living images, with which no 
statue of Jove by Phidias is fit to be compared. — Orlgen, 

Sanchoniathon traced idolatry back to the de- 
scendants of Cain, but gave no reason why they 
should be idolators. How could men worship 
idols when the echo of God's footsteps in the cool 
retreats of Eden had scarcely died away? 

Man, in all ages, has worshiped what he failed 
to comprehend, because he must give vent to the 
instinct of worship. He did not understand the 
why and wherefore of the constellations, nor the 
whither and whence of this mundane sphere ; 
therefore, magnificently and fabulously adorned 
temples were erected to the sun, moon and stars, 
and nature was deified. Some men were so won- 
derful and hard to understand that common people 
made gods of them. Some were so rich and pow- 



78 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

erful that they were enabled to purchase the rev- 
erence and worship of the masses, who were al- 
ways at the mercy of the rulers. These rulers 
were much like Constantine, who said, in effect, 
" Be christians or I will kill you ;" and in his time 
the sword was of more utility than the mourners' 
bench. All the ancient kings of Ethiopia were 
considered gods. The Velleda of the Germans 
and the Janus of the Hungarians, the Thaut, Wo- 
den and Assa of northern nations, were worshiped 
as gods, although they were but men. It is said 
that Baal was the first deified man ; but to enu- 
merate all who have been set up and worshiped as 
gods since his day would be to fill a volume of 
great magnitude, and, as the world is not at all 
interested in the forgotten gods of other ages, such 
an enterprise would be unappreciated and of little 
value. The ancient idolators of heathendom were 
very enthusiastic, and could worship any kind of a 
god on short notice. They worshiped by the 
pound or perch, and for all there was in it. They 
did not seem to care much about the personal ap- 
pearance of their gods, or whether they were dead 
or alive. 

The Olympian gods, Varro's select gods and 
Ovid's noble gods were the highest order of ancient 
gods. Jupiter was called the god of heaven ; Nep- 
tune, the god of the sea; Mars, the god of war; 
Apollo, god of eloquence, poetry, music, medicine 
and the fine arts ; Juno, queen of heaven and of all 
the gods, and goddess of marriages and births ; 
Vesta, goddess of fire ; Minerva, goddess of wis- 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 79 

dom ; Ceres, goddess of corn, harvest and the 
flowers ; Diana, goddess of hunting and chastity ; 
Venus, goddess of beauty and mother of Love ; 
Mercury, god of thieves ; Cupid, god of love ; 
Bacchus, god of wine, etc. 

But the ancient heathen idolator was not satisfied 
to worship a limited number of high-toned gods, 
but just turned himself loose and worshiped every- 
thing on general principles. In many portions of 
India, Persia and America the people worshiped 
thunder and lightning and the wind, probably not 
being able to understand the exceeding temerity 
of a cyclone. The Finlanders adored stones, pos- 
sibly because they were like other men who pon- 
der on immortality — not able to see through a mill- 
stone. The Scythians worshiped iron, either pig 
or smelted ; and many nations made gods of gold 
and silver. Onions were deities in Egypt, among 
people who probably felt the need of a strong god — 
one they could touch, taste, feel and smell. The 
Vandals and Peruvians worshiped trees and for- 
ests. The Gauls and Druids reverenced the oak. 
In Egypt and Thebes the stork, raven, sparrow- 
hawk, ibis, eagle and grisson, and in Mexico the 
lapwing, have been deified. It is, therefore, fair 
to presume that heretic huntsmen of those days 
went gunning after gods and goddesses in much 
the same way modern Nimrods gun after quail and 
woodcock. Maimonides says that Zabian idola- 
tors worshiped goats, considering them demons in 
disguise. This sage conclusion of the Zabians has 
never been refuted. The bull, cat, dog, wolf. 



~8o PHANT^NSMAGORIAX TtlEOLOGY. 

baboon, lion and crocodile have had their devotees 
along the Nile. On the island of Crete the hog 
was adored, and could ravage a garden or field or 
uproot a potato patch unmolested, for the natives 
were not base enough to mar the appetites and 
pleasures of their god. At Troas, Tenedoo and 
Thebes altars were erected and sacrifices offered 
to rats and mice ; the worshipers striving, no doubt, 
to draw the gods into their spiritual rat-traps by 
the aid of soft speech and blistered cheese. 
Throughout Zoroaster's realm the porcupine made 
salvation free, and the quills of this fretful animal 
were utilized as a means of grace. It is quite an 
item to worship a god who can use such -pointed 
arguments and at the same time retain his dignity 
and standing. 

Countless thousands of gods and objects of wor- 
ship were raised up by the idolators of old, and it 
seems that the Orient was at one time a vast fac- 
tor}^ for the invention and production of graven 
images. Millions of gods and goddesses flourished 
in the minds of these old-fashioned worshipers, 
who were grasping after just what we are grasping 
for, only in a different way. The religions of to- 
day offer the world their improved idols. Moses, 
and David, and Solomon, and the prophets, and 
the priests of Judah, and Mahomet, and Confucius, 
and Guatama, and all the great pioneers of the 
present civilization, were idol-mongers, and paved 
a way through the darkness for the ro3^al tread of 
Jesus Christ. 

Are you quite sure that idolism is a thing of the 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 8 1 

past, even in christian lands ? Is not Christ deified ? 
Is not the Pope deified? Do not Papists call the 
Virgin Mary the mother of God, and worship the 
saints, and venerate the relics of their church? 
Do they not idolize the " Holy Catholic Church?" 
It is true that demonism, fire worship and fetichism 
are so subdued and removed irom civilization that 
the world is scarcely aware of their existence. 
The holocaust, hecatomb and self-immolation are 
limited almost to extinction. Years ago Great 
Britain placed her iron heel on India's '* coral 
strand," and infants are no longer destroyed by 
mothers at command of the gods, the sick are no 
longer thrown into the Ganges, and human sacri- 
fice is no longer tolerated. 

Civilization has risen above sorcery and witch- 
craft. Theomancy, bibliomancy, psychomancy, 
christallomantia, sciomancy, aruspicy, hierosophy, 
hieromancy, anthropomancy, sideromancy, ichthy- 
omancy, pyromancy, capnomancy, myomancy, 
ornithomancy, alectryomancy, ophiomancy, botan- 
omancy, hydromancy, pegomancy, crithomancy, 
cleromancy, dactiliomancy, lithomancy, belo- 
mancy, pessomancy, oneiromancy, anthroposco- 
phy, gastromancy, ceromancy, and all the other 
forms of divination, are numbered among the by- 
gone superstitions of past ages. Spiritism contin- 
ues to flourish, and, whether its doctrines be right 
or wrong, the world refuses to pass judgment 
upon it. 

The holy temples, the mighty cathedrals, the 

6 



82 PHAXTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

magnificent churches and great synagogues and 
splendid tabernacles of Christendom are better ele- 
ments of civilization than the mosques, pagodas 
and joss-houses of the East. Humanity, in the 
aggregate, no longer worships hogs and dogs, in- 
sects and serpents. It has found something better 
to adore. The idols of our worship are purer, 
better, nobler and more refined than those of an- 
tiquit}'. To these improved idols the world is 
joined. 

The apotheosis of Christ by His disciples was 
the crowning achievement of idolism. Humanity 
demanded Christ, therefore He was received ; the 
great demand for something tangible to worship 
was supplied, and He is acknowledged to be the 
most perfect idol ever reared by human hands. 
After all, it is not a bad thing for poor frail and 
helpless humanity to worship a perfect man. He 
was so compassionate, and had so many godlike 
qualities of mind and heart, that His followers 
failed to understand Him : therefore, thev called 
Him a god. A deified man, blameless, stainless, 
and above reproach, a martvr, a philosopher, a 
philanthropist, all combined — such is the idol of 
Christendom. He is in fact the king of kings and 
lord of lords, because the rulers of this world ac- 
knowledge His supremacy. He is a savior and 
redeemer because a knowledge of and desire to 
follow His precepts and example leads men into 
the higher walks of life and saves them from the 
sins that easih' beset them. He is an advocate 
because he taught men to pray and plead to the 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 83 

unknown God, and His spirit lingers with them 
when they do so. He was the son of God, and so 
are you. He was the son of David and the son of 
man because He was born of earthly parents ancf 
suffered. He was the Lamb of God because He 
was slain in His transcendent beauty and purity 
and offered as a sacrifice on the altars of the un- 
known God. He is the King of Glory, because 
He has filled the earth with glory. He is the 
Prince of Peace, because His doctrines have sub- 
dued the human heart. He is the Good Shepherd, 
because His sheep follow Him through evil as well 
as good report. He is the way, because those 
who find Him are better satisfied with the journey 
than those who do not find Him. He is the bread 
and water of life, for those who partake of Him 
hunger and thirst no more after righteousness. 
He is the light of the world, because His glory 
lights up the dark places and His love illumines 
the soul of the just. Do you object to such an idol ? 
Through countless ages of the past the human soul 
sought after God. It found many gods of high 
and low degree, such as poor, frail humanity could 
manufacture, but none could keep pace with the 
strides of civilization until Jesus Christ arose above 
the horizon as America arose from the sea before 
Columbus, or like the white sails of a home-bound 
ship to the gaze of a shipwrecked sailor. 

Having discovered Christ, the soul is not at all 
certain that it has found the unknown God. It 
being absolutely necessary that humanity have a 
tender-hearted and perfect man to worship, Jesus 



84 PHAXTASMAGORIAX THEOLOGY. 

Christ was chosen. If the soul failed to lind the 
hiding-place of the Alost High, it has certainly 
found a being so faultless that it is not degrading 
to worship and adore his name and memory. Idol 
worship is indulged in by all men. and is not de- 
basing unless the obiect of worship is debased. 
How many of a'ou have idols of silver and gold 
and gods of clay? Ah, me ! it is these household 
gods — waves, mothers, sisters, brothers and chil- 
dren — that seem the most precious. How we cling 
to them, these idols of clav ! How empt}' is life 
when thev are broken ! How utterlv desolate we 
are when death wraps his dark mantle around our 
idolized ones and bears them where we can not 
follow ! 

How touchingly sweet Alice Cary tells of the 
death of her little brother : 

" Sweetly his pale arms folded 

My neck in sweet embrace 
As the light of immortal beauty 

Silently covered his face ; 
And when the arrows of sunset 

Lodged in the tree-tops bright, 
He fell, in his saint-like beauty, 

Asleep by the gates of light." 

Poor Xancy Amelia Priest struck the chords 
that vibrate in the human heart when she wrote 
her poem, '* Over the River.*" How sweet these 
words : 

'' Over the river the boatman pale 

Carried another, the household pet. 
We crossed on her bosom her dimpled hands. 
Darling Minnie, I see her yet." 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 85 

We are civilized, therefore we have our house- 
hold gods. It is not true, as some assert, that love 
is a result of education and long training ; it is an 
inborn attribute of the soul, and worship is the 
natural prompting of love. Somehow the unknown 
God has made himself manifest to the soul, and 
man erects these idols of clav, and offers himself a 
living sacrifice on the altars of these living gods. 
This distillation of the essence of the love of the 
great God has permeated the social fabric of all 
civilized nations. It makes men strong in the arts 
and sciences, strong in love, and mighty in battle. 
The Protestant army of Gustavus Adolphus, the 
Lion of the North ; Nelson's howling Methodist 
sailors; the followers of Richard Cameron, of 
Scotland ; the followers of Oliver Cromwell, of 
England, were all idolators ; that is, they received 
strength and were buoyed up by that sweet spirit 
of the hidden God that men have centered in the 
body and soul of Jesus Christ. Clarkson, Oberlin, 
Felix Nell', Frobel, Pestalozzi, Elizabeth Fry, 
Florence Nightingale, Mary Stanley, Dorothy 
Pattison, heroes and heroines of philanthropy, 
caught their inspiration from their idol — Christ. 
Do not say that idolatry is blasphemy ; say, rather, 
that the present elevated and purified form of idol- 
ism is the best method whereby man can develop 
and utilize the great forces of civilization, and 
bring the world nearer to that mighty event of the 
future when all nations of the earth will rally 
around one common star>iard of religious belief 
and work in harmony f^r the elevation and ad- 



86 PHANTASMAGORIAX THEOLOGY. 

vancement of the race. Men who worship idols 
of gold and silver, and lose sight of love and home 
and wife and children and all principles of honor, 
being swallowed up by a single idea — these insa- 
tiate money-getters, with some exceptions, are the 
meanest men on the face of the earth. iVs a rule, 
they are destitute of real wealth, for there is no 
poverty so dark and cheerless as the poverty of a 
human soul without love or pity or mere v. A man 
who can steal the substance of the widow and or- 
phan without remorse, or hear the cries of the dis- 
tressed and helpless unmoved, is no higher than 
the dog or ass in soul attainment. Such a one is 
poor, indeed ; and the wretched beggar who pleads 
all day for just enough bread to satisfy the crav- 
ings of his appetite, and sleeps by the hedge at 
night, is a king in comparison if he but have a 
warm and loving heart. The love of monev is a 
wasting disease, and brings around the diseased 
only temporarv treasures, such as he nmst leave 
behind him by and by. It is strictly logical for us 
to suppose that men carrv awav with them at death 
the grand acquirements of heart and brain — they 
will cling to the soul in eternity : but the rich man 
leaves his baubles, and, if he has no better treasure, 
enters the unknown land a beggar, a mean, sordid, 
contemptible mendicant among the shining hosts 
w^ho have •' washed their robes in the blood of the 
Lamb," and "went up through great tribulation." 
It is not at all illogical to suppose that a soul which 
is dwarfed and warped, and exists in a state of 
bankruptc}^, in time vijJ -^nter eternity in the con- 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 87 

dition of a beggar, not as a punishment, but as a 
result of the immutability of natural law. There 
is no wealth like the wealth of a warm and gener- 
ous soul, and no wine as precious as the wine of 
love. 

Who can estimate the value of an honest heart 
and an honest life, trained in the ways of virtue 
and touched by the sweet amenities of iaith, hope, 
friendship, charity and benevolence? Peace abides 
with the pure in heart, and it is a truism that " a 
good name is rather to be chosen than silver and 
gold." Gentle friends with souls of impassioned 
mould, your lives have been spent in idol worship, 
and you are all the better for it. You have been 
chastened and purified and refined by loss and 
misfortune. One by one your idols have been 
broken, and you have gathered up the fragments 
with tear-dimmed eyes and a dull pain gnawing 
at 3^our heart-strings. Oh ! these images of clay ! 
these shattered vases that contained for us the in- 
cense of life ! You have made altars, and offered 
rich sacrifices to your gods ; you have given the 
best years of your life to their service ; you plead, 
and pray, and lay priceless treasures of your heart 
in the dust. Will it be in vain? Will noble efforts 
receive no recompense? Is the soul a myth, and 
all of nature a mistake? Is humanity drifting aim- 
lessly down the stream, deathward, without chart 
or compass? Is faith in immortality a vain delu- 
sion, and hope a snare? 

Surely not. 



THE DARK HOUR. 

I can not tell, and yet somehow 
The smile of God is dark just now, 

And heartaches come again. 
Perchance some friend an unkind word 
Has said, that hurt me when I heard, 

And yet I know not when, 

I kneel beside the outer gate 

Of self, and watch, and weep, and wait, 

In my deep shame to-day. 
I dare not meet my secret sin, 
I can not face the man within, 

And weeping turn away. 

Proud soul of mine, be brave — be brave. 
Ye shall not sink beneath the wave. 

Nor die in such an atmosphere. 
For loss I know has made me strong. 
And all within me is not wrong, 

And I must know no fear. 

heart, that feels the common grief 
Of common men, and seeks relief 

Beside the holy cross — 
Lone heart, sad heart, be true, be true, 
Oh, sweet hope, thrill and thrill me through, 

And love shall conquer loss. 

Dread, solemn thoughts, begone, begone ! 

1 see and feel a better dawn, 
And I will sin no more 

Against myself, nor live a lie, 
Though I beneath my burden die, 
And fickle friends deplore. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

On fame's eternal camping-ground 

Their silent tents are spread, 
And glory guards, with solemn round, 

The bivouac of the dead. — O^Harra. 

I will go before thee, and level mountains, and burst asunder 
the folding doors of brass, and split in twain the bars of iron ; 
even I will give thee dark treasures, and the hidden wealth of 
secret places, that thou mayest know that I am God of Israel. 

— Isaiah. 

They are but fools who outcry make 

For those who roasted at the stake, 

And died in dungeons foul, and felt 

The tortures which God's priesthood dealt 

In pious wrath to heretics 

Beneath the blessed crucifix. 

— C. A. Buskirk. 

Revolution and evolution have walked hand-in- 
hand through all time ; evolution unfolding the 
great scroll of the human brain and developing the 
resources of the soul ; revolution tearing down to 
build anew or obliterate — to better or worst the 
condition of the race. 

The great generals of the past were, like Virgil's 
mvrtles, distillers of blood. Their missions were 
to destroy and waste the substance of the people ; 
to desolate and ruin and plunder and butcher their 
enemies, as well as to obtain and sustain their own 
liberties. Power and revenge were ofttimes their 



90 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

sweetest morsels of contemplation. Heroes sailed 
through seas of blood to victory. The world was 
in arms, and nations held supremacy by brute 
force alone. The czars and kings of holy and un- 
holy wars were generally indifferent to appeals for 
mercy, and went gunning for men in much the 
same wa}^ they would gun for partridges. The 
common people furnished the blood and muscle, 
and the rulers reaped the reward. The field of 
battle was the field of glor}^, and men learned the 
benefits of arbitration by bitter experience. 

War is not as fashionable now as when the an- 
cient Scandinavians feasted in the halls of Odin 
and drank wine from the skulls of their enemies ; 
or when the mighty Fingal and the forgotten kings 
of Innisfail swept like avenging demons over crim- 
son fields. Alexander drenched the world with 
blood, and filled Macedonia with great glory ; Ci- 
mon fought to maintain the honor of Greece ; 
Grant and Washington waged the great wars for 
human liberty in America ; Hannibal fought for 
Carthage, C^sar for Rome, Napoleon for France, 
Wellington for England, and Von Moltke for Ger- 
man}'. Their deeds are written in blood, but their 
names are linked with civilization. War seemed 
to be a common necessity in other centuries ; now 
it is deemed a dreadful ultimatum. At one time 
physicians claimed that nature was a servant who 
assisted them in the recovery of patients : ph^^si- 
cians of to-dav admit that nature effects all cures, 
and that the}^ can but assist in the work. So it is 
with the war idea. Formerly kings and rulers 



PHANTASM AGORIAN THEOLOGY. 9 1 

claimed that civilization demanded war as the 
price of liberty ; at the present time great rulers 
are certain that civilization demands peace in 
order to attain the most perfect liberty, and that 
vi^ar, like the doctor, is onh^ to be used in cases of 
extreme necessity. 

The great warriors of the past were not all mer- 
ciless tyrants or butchers, like Sylla, Napoleon, 
Tiberius, Caligula and Nero. In fact, many of 
them were, like Augustus, Trajan, Antigonus and 
Phocian, tender as a woman, and full of compas- 
sion ; or like the mighty Narses, who subdued the 
Goths, conquered Bactria and a large portion of 
German}^, but was so filled with mercy and gen- 
tleness that on the near approach of ever}^ battle 
spent a night in tears and prayer. The Emperor 
Theodore was so opposed to the shedding of blood 
that when he besieged a town he gave the enemy 
several days in which to capitulate before attacking 
the walls. Pompey the Great vanquished Tygranes, 
king of Pontus, but refused to hold him prisoner, 
preferring to respect and honor the courage of his 
fallen enemy. Grant followed his example in re- 
fusing to humble the conquered Lee. 

It is useless and unprofitable in this article to 
speculate on the real or fancied causes of the many 
wars of ancient and modern times, or to impute 
motives to the rank of the great armies of the past, 
but this sad fact is before us : the globe has been 
saturated with the blood of the brave and noble 
who laid their all on the altars of their native 
lands ; and the great Pacific is not deeper nor 



92 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

wider than the sea of blood that has trickled from 
the battle-fields of history. 

The wars of the kingdoms of Israel and Judah 
against the kings of Assyria and Chaldee made 
the eastern world tremble. Cyrus, founder of the 
great Persian empire, subdued all of the nations 
between Syria and the Red Sea, and was ruler 
over the Silicians, Syrians, Paphlagonians, Cap- 
padocians, Phrygians, Lydians, Carians, Phoene- 
cians, Arabians, Egyptians, Babylonians, Assyri- 
ans, Bactrians, and other races of people. He 
was not only great in deeds of valor, but in his 
sweet humility. Plutarch records the following 
inscription found on the tomb of this great warrior : 
"Oh, man, whoever thou art, and whenever thou 
comest, I am Cyrus, founder of the Persian em- 
pire. Envy me not the little earth that covers my 
body." In after years Alexander, who opened the 
tomb with burglarious hand, found these words, 
and w^as so fascinated with their tenderness and 
humility that he withdrew weeping at his own folly 
and with a sense of self-degradation. 

Man's independence and love of freedom have 
never been more heroically asserted and main- 
tained than when a handful of fearless men, under 
the Maccabees, successfully opposed the kings of 
Svria and warred with the Romans, who were then 
rulers of the world. 

Gideon, with three hundred men, who were con- 
scious of having their " quarrel just," put the 
mighty hosts of Midian to flight. 

Thirty-seven thousand men were engaged in the 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 93 

battle of Lutzen, in the war of the Reformation, 
under Wallenstein and Gustavus Adolphus ; twenty 
thousand were killed or wounded. 

Caesar destroyed more than a million men in the 
Gallic wars. 

The Romans killed one hundred . thousand in 
their victory over the Cimbri. 

In the battle of Shiloh, where Grant and Buell 
opposed Johnston and Bragg, twenty thousand 
men were killed or wounded. 

The armies of Napoleon, Ney, Blucher and 
Wellington at Waterloo lost fifty-one thousand 
killed and wounded. 

At the battle of the French and Russians under 
the walls of Moscow seventy-eight thousand were 
placed hors de combat. 

In the battle of Chickamauga, between Rose- 
crans and Bragg, thirty-six thousand were among 
the killed and wounded. 

At Gettysburg there were eight thousand killed ; 
at Fort Donelson five thousand. 

At Franklin, Tennessee, Hood and Schofield 
lost seven thousand men in a three hours' fight. 

At Bannockburn the Scots under Robert Bruce 
and the English under Edward II. lost about thirty- 
five thousand killed and wounded. 

At Thrasymena, in the Punic wars, seventeen 
thousand men were killed or wounded. 

In the battle of Marengo, in Italy, thirteen thou- 
sand were killed or wounded. 

In the battle of Evlau, Prussia, fortv-one thou- 
sand were killed or wounded. 



94 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

In the battle of Friedland thirty-five thousand 
were either killed or wounded. 

In the battle between the French and Austrians 
at the village of Essling forty thousand were among 
the killed and disabled. 

At Gravelptte, in a fight between the French 
and Germans, nearly fifty thousand men were 
killed or wounded. 

But the story of war is the same whether we 
consider Joshua at Aijalon or Sherman at Atlanta ; 
Darius at Babylon or Grant at Vicksburg ; Caleb 
at Hebron, Othniel at Debir, or Meade at Gettys- 
burg ; Jephtha the bandit against the twenty cities 
of Ammon or Sheridan desolating the Shenandoah 
valley ; Josiah, king of Judah, or Davy Crockett 
and Santa Anna at the Alamo ; the mythical Per- 
sian Rustem, who, it is alleged, killed twelve hun- 
dred men with a club, or Samson with his terrible 
jawbone ; Antony and Octavius at Actium or Jack- 
son at New Orleans ; Nelson at Trafalgar or Wal- 
lace among the crags of Scotland. 

The civilization we now enjoy was nursed in 
blood, and the foundation of the great social fabric 
has been cemented with the life current of brave 
men. Wars waged in the cause of justice and 
right have made civilization better and human lib- 
erty sweeter. Even the horrors of the French 
revolution brought lasting good to infidel France. 
During that great struggle the people of Paris lived 
in the open streets ; ladies of rank and nobility, 
thieves, beggars and prostitutes living together 
without fear of taint ; people of refinement declar- 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 95 

ing by their actions, as well as by word of mouth, 
that "There is no nobility except that of the 
heart." It is recorded that of eleven thousand two 
hundred and ten decrees issued by the great con- 
vention two-thirds were for the upbuilding of society 
and for the advancement of reason, justice, truth 
and love. The convention gave the following 
axiom: "The liberty of each citizen ends where 
the liberty of another citizen commences." And, 
although the people " made dance-houses of ruined 
churches and cloisters, and danced with tombs 
under their feet," and decorated the images of 
saints with night-caps, and did a great many 
things in a strictly unorthodox way, 3^et the fires 
of liberty and human love burned in their bosoms. 
In summing up the work of the convention of '93 
Victor Hugo says : 

It declared indigence sacred ; it declared infirmity sacred in the 
deaf, dumb and blind, who became wards of the state ; maternity 
sacred in the girl-mother, whom it lifted up ; infancy sacred in the 
orphan, whom it caused to be adopted by the country: innocence 
sacred in the accused who was acquitted, whom it indemnified. 
It abolished slavery; it proclaimed civic joint responsibility; it 
decreed gratuitous instruction ; it organized national education by 
the normal school of Paris, central schools in the chief towns, pri- 
mary schools in the country ; it created academies of music and 
the museums; it decreed the unity of the code, the unity of 
weights and measures, and the unity of calculation by the decimal 
system ; it established the finance of France, and caused public 
credit to succeed to the long monarchical bankruptcy ; it put the 
telegraph in operation ; to old age it gave endowed alms-houses, to 
sickness purified hospitals, to instruction the Polytechnic School, 
to science the bureau of longitudes, to human intellect the Insti- 
tute. It declared universal morality the basis of society and uni- 
versal conscience the basis of law, and all that servitude abolished. 



96 PHAXTASMAGORIAX THEOLOGY. 

fraternity proclaimed, humanity protected ; human conscience rec- 
tified ; the law of work transformed into right, and from onerous 
made honorable; national riches consolidated; childhood in- 
structed and raised up; letters and sciences propagated. The 
convention accomplished all these things in spite of the kings and 
the Vendee. 

Lycurgus, the great law-giver of the Lacedemo- 
nians, forbade the citizens of his country to learn 
any other business except the art of war, in order 
that the armies of his republic should become so 
mighty that other powers would not molest it and 
peace be preserved. How changed is now from 
then ! In our own peaceful and progressive Amer- 
ica, where fifty millions of freemen retire to their 
couches at night, serene and secure, with only a 
handful of idle soldiers on the frontier, we feel the 
great blessings of perpetual and permanent peace 
without the menace of mighty armies. Standing 
armies are sealed proposals for war, and peace can 
never be assured where brute force is the ruling 
power. Mankind will never accept *' peace at an}^ 
price," but it is quite evident that as civilization 
advances the necessity for shedding blood becomes 
less apparent and the conquests of peace of greater 
value. 

Yes, war has been a mighty element in molding 
and shaping the present civilization, and great 
blessings have been washed ashore from the waves 
of the crimson tide, but the influences of the mighty 
religions of the past and present are of more value 
than all other elements of civilization. While it is 
true that some of the bloodiest battles of history 
were fought by the soldiers of the holy wars, yet 



J 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 97 

the spirit of all religions save that of Mahomet is 
that of " peace and good will to men." This re- 
ligion was one of force, yet it has many redeeming 
qualities that save it from disrepute. In many re- 
spects it resembles the religion of Jesus Christ, and 
the Koran and New Testament teach similar truths 
in much the same way. Mahomet, however, was 
intrepid, and more practical than Christ, and his 
terrible sword was placed in the hands of a multi- 
tude of bandits, who knew but little of the world 
beyond their own deserts, but were, I think, quite 
skillful with the barbarous implements of warfare, 
and proved a scourge to the whole world. Ma- 
homet was a lineal descendant of Ishmael, and was 
born about 569 years after Christ. His admirers, 
and he has many, say that he was a beautiful, elo- 
quent and courteous young man, very ascetic, 
and subject more or less to attacks of epilepsy. 
He was not very well educated, but his mind was 
strong enough, between fits, to dictate the Koran. 
During his lifetime he succeeded in rallying all of 
Arabia under his banners, and trained them for 
business. In those days his followers carried their 
persuasive swords, and enough hard-tack and 
jerked gazelle to supply the inner man, and were 
ready for a fight at all hours of the day or night. 

Now, these ancient camel-herders had a very 
effective way of inducing a fellow to lead a relig- 
ious life; and, while it was not strictly original 
with them, it answered their purpose very well. 
They would ask a man to accept the religion of 

7 



98 PHAXTASMAGORIAX THEOLOGY. 

Mahomet ; if he accepted, all right ; if not, off 
went his head. They were very polite, but rather 
succinct, and never gave a man a second invita- 
tion, believing that the enemies of their "holy re- 
ligion" vvould sink to hell at death, and were quite 
anxious to send everybody to the headquarters of 
the damned who did not believe exactly as they 
believed — a spirit which has, I am sorry to say, 
permeated all religions even to this dav. In after 
years, when the holy prophet was whiling his time 
away among the gorgeous throng of ready-made 
angels in Paradise, being dead, the habit of invit- 
ing people to embrace the religion of rvlahomet 
became obsolete, and prisoners of the victorious 
legions of Allah were immediately put to death 
unless they pleaded for the privilege of becoming 
religious, upright citizens according to the dictates- 
of the Koran. During the first century after the 
prophet's death his followers were victorious, sub- 
duing the trained and well-disciplined armies of 
Greece and Italy, and abolishing the Christian 
church of x\sia and Africa. From India to the 
Atlantic, through Persia, Arabia, Syria, Palestine, 
Asia Minor, Egypt, Northern Africa, Spain and a 
part of France, the supremacy of the Mahometans 
was acknowledged. Rome, Constantinople and 
other magnificent cities were captured and plun- 
dered, and the victors were masters of the best 
parts of the ancient world. At length the people 
became biased in their religious views, having, no 
doubt, a wholesome desire to save their heads, and 
having lost everything except their heads and their 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 99 

dignity, who can blame them for submitting to the 
yoke of Mahometanism ? Alter the victorious 
hordes of the prophet liad cut off enough heads 
and sht a sufficient number of throats to insure 
them an abundant entrance into Paradise, together 
with their immediate posterity, the innate wealth: 
of their religion became apparent. Philosophy,, 
-astronomy, geometr}' and medicine were taught by 
learned men. Public schools were established,- 
and wise men multiplied on the banks of the Tigris. 
In Egypt and Spain immense libraries, containing 
hundreds of thousands of valuable volumes, accu- 
mulated ; and in Andalusia there w^ere at least sev- 
enty large public libraries. Their astronomical 
tables were accurate. Their knowledge of geom- 
etry is proved by the accuracy of a degree of the 
great circle of the earth as measured on the plains 
of Chaldea. Their physicians w^ere students of 
Hippocrates and Galen, and among their eminent 
men of medical lore we find Rhazis, Albucasis and 
Avicenna. 

Now, I do not believe that Mahomet and his 
guerrillas were authorized to establish a kingdom on 
earth or tp slit infidel "wizzens" for the glory of God. 
The prophet of Arabia must have been mistaken 
about his mission on earth ; or it is quite logical to 
suppose that he was too delicately organized to fol- 
low his occupation as camel-driver, and preferred to 
run a salvation butcher shop. I hold that God pre- 
fers to save souls in a legitimate way ; and it is cer- 
tainly no advantage for a man to have his head cut 
off unless he would enjoy life better in that conditionr 



::iOO PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

But I will not further criticise this religion or its 
epileptic founder, because it just now occurs to me 
that the bloodiest and most horrible record ever 
made by any organization was made by the Roman 
Catholic church in ages when human ingenuity 
w^as taxed to its utmost in contriving modes of tort- 
ure for infidels. The crimes of Mahomet and his 
confederates are insignificant compared with the 
atrocities of Catholic priests. The followers of one 
religion butchered in the name of Mahomet ; the 
followers of the other butchered in the name of 
Christ ; and as a matter of fact it was of no conse- 
quence to the infidel in whose name he was killed. 

The ancient Arabians, after their great successes 
in subduing other nationalities, and ruling with 
imperial grandeur for many long years, went out 
of power, and w^ere, in a measure, forsaken by 
their conquered nations. But the religion of the 
prophet had found an abiding place in the hearts 
of the people, and, although " Ishmael's wandering 
breed" returned to their native heath, the spirit of 
their religion lived and flourished, and at one time 
threatened to uproot Christianity. The recent ex- 
ploits of the False Prophet reveal the fact that the 
turbaned sons of the desert are ever ready and 
anxious to continue the war on infidels and return 
to their ancient power and glorv. Their desert is 
an impregnable fortress, as manv a half baked and 
blistered Englishman will testif^^ Christianity 
will never subdue them by force of arms. What 
can civilized soldiers do with a people so favored 
by nature ? The ver}' desert seems to swallow and 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. lOI 

resurrect them as if by magic, and their resources 
are unknown. Every man's hand is against them 
now, and has been in the past, but the human race 
can well afford to give them credit for their contri- 
butions to civilization. Their religion has made 
the world vastly better, and, although it is so harsh 
and terrible, it embraces the grand principles em- 
bodied in the christian religion. It will probably 
die for want of enthusiasm, but not until something 
better has matured in the hearts of its adherents. 

In the land of porphyry temples, where rice 
fields yield their abundance and palm trees wave — 
in Oriental India, with its fabulous wealth of gold 
and silver and diamonds and pearls and ivory, and 
costly treasures innumerable, the oldest religion 
on earth was rooted and grounded. Art and sci- 
ence reached a high degree of perfection in this 
land two thousand years before Christ, under the 
influence of the religion of Hindostan, which was 
established by the Brahmins. This religion is very 
old, and in consequence is quite infirm, and may 
die from the effects of old age. But there is an 
air of refinement and culture about it not found in 
any other faith. Its sacred books are three thou- 
sand 3'ears old, and were certainly written by 
scholars and men of great wisdom. The old-fash- 
ioned way of becoming a straight, orthodox Brah- 
min was to renounce the world and become an 
eremite. In the solitude of the forest the seeker 
after Brahm sought the liberty of his soul in rather 
a singular manner. During his sojourn in the 
world he desired, above all things, to be tender 



I02 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

and gracious alike to man and beast. After leav- 
ing the busy world he sought, by contemplation in 
the wilds of nature, to be swallowed up in his cre- 
ator. With berries and roots for food and the 
skins of wild animals for clothing ; with long hair 
and wath no desire whatever for bath-tubs and 
bathing towels ; w'ith insufficient protection from 
cold and heat, and with no earthly desire except 
to escape the confines of earth and be liberated 
from sin, he lived and died. Imagine one of 
these absent-minded old fellows, after enduring 
the austerities of isolation for a long period, enter- 
ing one of our metropolitan hotels to sign the 
register. He would fare worse than a Georgia 
•*' cracker" or a Texas cowboy. He might step in, 
but he w^ould step out again — without signing the 
register. 

Manu, the great Hindu law-giver and philoso- 
pher, was the peer of our own St. Paul or Seneca, 
and has not been a passive factor in the art of civ- 
ilization. This amiable gentleman of the old 
school was as generous as a tow^n pump, and was 
never pumped dry until the "shadow feared of 
men" held the handle. His wisdom was great, 
and his love and tenderness magnificent. 

The sixth book of the laws of Manu — which was 
-a text-book of the Brahmins — savs : 

Let him not wish for death ; let him not wish for life. Let him 
■"expect his appointed time, as the hired servant expects his wages. 

Meditating on the Supreme Spirit without any earthly desire, 
with no companion but his own soul, let him live in this world 
/Seeking the bliss of the next. 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. IO3 

The eighth book says ; 

The soul itself is its own witness ; the soul itself is its own refuge. 
Offend not thy conscious soul, the supreme, eternal witness of men. 

The fruit of every virtuous act which thou hast done, good 
man, since thy birth shall depart from thee to the dogs if thou de- 
viate from the truth. 

O friend of virtue, the Supreme Spirit, which is the same with 
thyself, resides in thy bosom perpetually, and is an all-knowing 
inspector of thy goodness or wickedness. 

The great Vedantist philosopher said : 

The knowledge which realizes that everything is Brahm alone 
liberates the soul. It annuls the effect both of our virtues and our 
vices. We traverse thereby both merit and demerit. The heart's 
knot is broken ; all doubts are split, and all our works perish. 
Only by perfect abstraction, not merely from the senses, but also 
from the thinking intellect, and by remaining in the knowing in- 
tellect, does the devotee become identified with Brahm. He then 
remains as pure as glass when the shadow has left it. He lives 
destitute of passions or affections. He lives sinless ; for as water 
wets not the leaf of the lotus, so sin touches not him who knows 
God. He stands in no further need of virtue; for of what use is 
the winnowint: fan when the sweet southern wind is blowing? 
His meditations are : " I am Brahm. I am life. I am everlast- 
ing, perfect, self-existent, undivided, joyful." 

The religion of the Brahmins was somewhat 
damaged by the sword of Mahomet, and after- 
ward riddled by christian bullets, but exists to-day 
among the now degraded people of Hindostan. It 
is, however, slowly giving wa}^ to the advanced 
ideas of Christianity. Good Qiieen Victoria did 
wonderful things for this benighted land, although 
her soldiers robbed the poor natives of much of 
their wealth. Brahminism paved the way for the 
grander and better forms of religion, and as a pio- 
neer of civilization performed good work. 



I04 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

Prince Gautama of India, the founder of Bud- 
dhism, was born 620 years before Christ. This- 
great and gracious ruler taught about all the doc- 
trines of Christianity in a most forcible way. Be- 
nevolence and charity were fundamental principles- 
of his religion, and his followers were instructed 
to love their enemies, to abstain from and prevent 
the spilling of blood, to care for and protect ani- 
mals, and provide shelter for strangers ; to lay 
down their lives not only for men, but also for 
beasts. Buddhism, although an offshoot from. 
Brahminism, is entirely different from that relig- 
ion, being gentle and gracious without ostentation^ 
humane and tender, opposed to violence, and em- 
bracing the world in its arms. It is the natural 
religion of generous and loving souls, and by some 
is supposed to outrival the religion of Christ. But 
there is a difference between Buddhism and Chris- 
tianity, and the difference is in favor of christianityr 

Buddhism obtained a foothold in China, Japan,. 
Lao, Cochin China, Ce3don, Cambodia, Siam^ 
Burmah, Thibet, Tartary, Loo Choo, and many 
of the South Sea islands ; and while it has been^ 
and to some extent is and will be a progressive 
religion, it does not progress in the same way, nor 
as rapidly, as Christianity. Of course, this old- 
time religion had a passive following. Its priests- 
were probably not as eloquent and forcible as St, 
Paul, nor as irresistible and fascinating as St. 
Peter, nor as loud as John the Baptist ; and, on 
account of the passivity of its followers and its de- 
graded priesthood, it is quite probable that the 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. IO5 

spirit of christianit}^ will eventually swallow up or 
eclipse Buddhism. But that event is a long, long, 
long — oh ! such a long distance in the future. 

Some of the doctrines of Buddhism, as taught 
by its founder, are as follows : 

1. All existence is evil, because all existence is subject to 
change and decay. 

2. The source of this evil is the desire for things which are to 
change and pass away. 

3. This desire, and the evil which follows it, are not inevita- 
ble ; for if we choose we can arrive at Nirvana, when both shall 
wholly cease. 

4. There is a fixed and a certain method to adopt by pursuing 
which we attain this end without possibility of failure. 

Or, first, the evil ; second, its cause ; third, its 
end ; and, fourth, the way of reaching the end. 

Then follow the eight steps of this way : 



I 

2 

4 

5 
6 

7 
8 
truth. 



Right belief, or the correct faith. 

Right judgment, or wise application of that faith to life. 

Right utterance, or perfect truth in all that we say and do. 

Right motives, or proposing always a proper end and aim. 

Right occupation, or an outward life not involving sin. 

Right obedience, or faithful observance of duty. 

Right memory, or a proper recollection of past conduct. 

Right meditation, or keeping the mind fixed on permanent 



Commandments and prohibitions of the founder 
of the Buddhistic faith : 

1. Do not kill. 

2. Do not steal. 

3. Do not commit adultery. 

4. Do not lie, 

5. Do not become intoxicated. 



I06 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 



The five which apply to novices or monks : 



Take no solid food after noon. 

Do not visit dances, singing or theatrical representations. 

Use no ornaments or perfumery in dress. 

Use no luxurious beds. 

Accept neither gold nor silver. 



This religion has been immortalized by Edwin 
Arnold in the "Light of Asia." He has, indeed, 
rescued Gautama's faith from its wicked priests, 
who sought to hide its loveliness and cast reproach 
on the good intentions of the founder. According 
to respectable authority, nearh^ five hundred mill- 
ions of human beings live and die in this beautiful 
faith. As the spirit of Christianity and that of Bud- 
dhism are blending, and are almost identical, it is 
quite possible man}^ live and flourish under Gau- 
tama's religion who would scorn to acknowledge 
it. Perhaps the great religion of the future will be 
made by a fusion of Buddhism with Christianity. 
Such a religion, with the crudities and mistakes 
of both abandoned, under a label suggesting 
neither, would be wide enough and good enough 
for the entire race. There are many good things 
taught by Buddhists not advocated so forcibly by 
christians. They are exceedingl}^ kind and care- 
ful in caring for animals of all kinds, and a chris- 
tian is not more distressed at the cries of suffering 
humanity than a Buddhist when he hears a cry 
of pain from a wild beast. It is related how the 
most gracious Buddha gave his bod}' to a starved 
tigress who was too weak to nurse her ^^oung. 
This story, whether true or not, illustrates the deep 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. IO7 

humanity that permeates the faith. Buddhism has 
warmed the Hfe-blood of nations, and hfted man- 
kind into a higher and purer atmosphere. 

The rehgion of Zoroaster was strictly Persian, 
ahhough its founder was a Jew. His great " Zen- 
•devesta" reveals the fact that he was a scholar and 
a man of honorable qualities. He asserted the su- 
premacy of God over the world, and held that the 
affairs of men are controlled by the forces of good 
and evil, good being designated an angel of light 
and evil an angel of darkness. These two forces 
were supposed to be waging continual warfare in 
-each man's life, and the result of each conflict was 
for the good or ill of the individual. Although this 
religion is now almost a thing of the past, yet it 
still exerts a wonderful influence for good. 

Confucius, the almond-eyed philosopher of 
China, gave the world a valuable code of morals. 
He was born about 500 years before Christ, and 
when he had arrived at a proper age gathered 
around him a select number of disciples, who re- 
ceived instructions from him, and no doubt consid- 
ered him a man of divine parts. Confucius was not 
a great man in any sense of the word, but he was 
good. If alive, and living in America, he would be 
an evenly balanced old man, who never told a lie, 
nor chewed tobacco, nor smoked cigars, nor drank 
intoxicating liquors, nor played poker ; in politics 
a mugwump ; in religion a Quaker ; and swallowed 
up with the idea that he had always been too good 
to do anything bad. In a land where the people 
subsist on rats and rice, and smother their brains 



I08 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

with opium, a high degree of intellectuahty could 
not flourish ; and if Confucius appears hard-headed 
and stupid, and his ideas commonplace, let it be 
remembered that he was a brilliant star among the 
pig-tails, and his teachings are sacred to them. 
The light of this eminent Chinese lantern has illu- 
mined the world for the past twenty-three hundred 
years ; but while his religion has undoubtedly mor- 
alized a portion of the Chinese empire, it is quite 
certain that it is neither progressive nor appreci- 
ated outside of China. 

How shall we account for the wonderful civiliza- 
tion of the ancient Egyptians? They were skilled 
in the arts and sciences, yet possessed the most 
abominable forms of worship . Their necrom ancers 
held social intercourse with infernal deities, and 
their idols were of the most degrading character. 
How the brain and soul could develop so symmet- 
rically under such circumstances is a m3^stery. 
But to-day we find on the banks of the Nile sculp- 
ture, which could only come from the hands of 
great masters, nearly four thousand years old. 
The pyramids, the largest structures ever erected, 
and the oldest of human works, have never been 
equaled in many points of excellence. The larg- 
est or " Great Pyramid" covers thirteen acres at 
the base — a space large enough to ruin a Dutch 
farm in the fatherland — and weighs seven million 
tons. Herodotus tells us that the erection of the 
first pyramid required an army of one hundred 
thousand workmen twenty years. The same au- 
thor tells of a monolithic temple weighing five 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. IO9 

thousand tons which was carried the entire length 
of the Nile. The grand and massive proportions 
of their architecture have never been excelled. 
The evidences of great learning and great genius 
are everywhere visible among the ruins of her once 
populous cities. Certainly, the most ancient people 
of that land had a pure and rational religion ; if 
not, then the great civilization of that country was 
like a beautiful flower springing from the mouth 
of a corpse. After all, we know so little about 
ancient Egypt, and can only guess at the cause of 
her achievements. Wrapped in gloom and mys- 
tery, the history of Eg3^ptian civilization has puz- 
zled mankind for centuries, and will probably re- 
main an unsolved problem to the end of time ; but 
it has not been in vain. We who live now are 
reaping much of tlie harvest of the good seed sown 
on the banks of the Nile in bygone ages by a for- 
gotten race of people. The grand struggle of the 
human soul in all ages of the world against the 
fearful odds of ignorance and superstition and bar- 
barism will finally result in victor}^ for humanity, 
and the soul will stand resplendent and fair, a dia- 
mond dug up from the mire and clay, a thing of 
beauty dragged from the depths of human degra- 
dation. 

The most classical civilization yet produced was 
in ancient Greece. That country and people pro- 
duced the greatest painters, the greatest sculptors, 
the greatest musicians, the greatest poets, the 
greatest physicians, the greatest warriors, the 
greatest philosophers, the greatest historians, the 



no PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

« 

greatest orators, the greatest architects and the 
greatest mathematicians the world has ever known. 
Since the downfall of that nation her mighty mert 
of genius have been the pride of the world, and 
their work remains unsurpassed and unrivaled by 
the genius of anv other nation. While it is true 
many of the great masters of art and science were 
not produced in Greece, it is equally true that a 
majority of the greatest of the great masters lived 
and died there. Her master minds gave civiliza- 
tion a strong impetus. The Greeks were a happy 
race of people. Their love for the beautiful was 
marvelous, and can easily be discerned in their 
forms of faith and worship of mythological deities. 
The student of Greek mythology has a most de- 
lightful task. In fancy he sees Apollo descending 
in his blazing chariot to join the feast of the gods ; 
hangs spell-bound over Mount Olympus, where a 
congress of the gods is in session ; hears Oreads 
calling from the mountains ; sees the naiads by 
their native streams and dryads in the woods, or 
sees Diana in her strength and beauty among the 
trees ; he listens to the alluring music of the sirens, 
and lingers with Thetis and her water-nymphs in 
their submarine grottoes ; Parnassus, snow-capped 
and beautiful, soars above him ; he explores the 
mysteries of the Delphic caves, and hears the soft 
splash of the Castalian fount ; the goddesses of 
love and beauty enchant him — if he be a young 
man of ardent temperament ; and he finds in Homer 
a well-spring of joy. A correct knowledge of the 
fabulous religion of the Hellenic race is a thing to 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. Ill 

be obtained by patient research, but the student 
receives ample reward. I do not understand ex- 
actly what caused the downfall of this mighty re- 
ligion, unless it was the introduction of Christianity. 
But why Greece should cease to bring forth great 
men, and her common people become so degraded, 
is a mystery. Perhaps the iron heel of the pope 
crushed all the joy and good cheer from their 
hearts, and made them mediocres in the great 
drama of life ; or perhaps their own unbridled pas- 
sions consumed them, or the devastation of war 
laid them low ; but be it as it may, Greece is no 
longer ancient Greece, and her greatness is a thing 
of the past. 

All the great religions, and all the' small relig- 
ions, and all branches of all religions, and all sects, 
have contributed to the welfare of civilization. 
Atheism, which denies the existence of God ; qui- 
etism, which taught that salvation was found in 
mental tranquillity and inactivity; materialism, 
which resolves the soul into matter ; idolatry, or 
the worship of images ; paganism, with its myriad 
forms of heathen worship ; polytheism, with its" 
plural gods ; ditheism or dualism, with its good 
god and evil god ; tritheism, with its trio of gods 
in the godhead ; pantheism, which teaches that 
God is everything and that everything is God ; 
Judaism in its ancient purity and spirituality ; sab- 
ism, with its fire and constellation worship ; hylo- 
zoism, which teaches that matter is God ; deism, 
with its unnatural God and doctrine of annihilation, 
have all been thoroughfares by which the human 



112 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

heart and brain have reached the broad and splen- 
did ways of modern civilization. They have been 
pathways through the wilderness to eternal sun- 
shine and beauty ; little winding rills and streams 
that trickled from the everlasting snow down the 
rugged mountain-side, through broad fields, to the 
great sea. Their combined influence will be swal- 
lowed up in the great religion of the future. 

^rius and Arius, two great reformers in the 
early history of Christianity, laid the foundations 
of permanent reformation. They were excommu- 
nicated by the church, many of their followers 
were exiled, and many were obliged to live in the 
woods and caves and various out of the way places 
in order to save their lives. 

Ammonius Saccas, the Alexandrian philosopher, 
announced that all religions meant the same thing, 
and after mixing them endeavored to force every 
one to drink from the same theological jug. His 
eflbrts were not successful, but he almost liberated 
an idea from his troubled cranium. 

Moses Amyraut, the Frenchman, who pro- 
claimed universal salvation for all mankind, added 
glory to the cause of Christ. 

Agricola, in the sixteenth century, taught that 
law was of no use under the gospel, and his fol- 
lowers taught that the elect can not fall from grace. 
They were all badly mistaken, but probably meant 
well. 

The Appolinarians, in the fourth century, de- 
fended the divinity of Christ, but denied His hu- 
manity. 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. II3 

The persecuted Arminians, under Grotius, Bar- 
tievelt, Hoogerberts and other learned men, taught 
liberal and advanced ideas of brotherly love and 
charity. 

The Behmenists, or followers of Jacob Behmen, 
revelator and shoemaker — who worked at both 
trades with a waxed end — taught a classical mys- 
ticism. 

The Bourignonists, followers of gentle Madam 
Antoinette Bourignon de la Ponta, advocated the 
toleration of all religions, and the gentle dame's 
ugly mug occupies a high niche in the temple of 
fame. But she was most cruelly persecuted, by 
Protestants and Catholics alike, because she was 
bold enough to speak out against the fallacies of 
both. 

Calvin taught that some men were born for hell 
and others for heaven, and that they could not 
change the matter in any way. He had probably 
noticed that some families were "hell bent" and 
others not, and concluded that he had discovered 
a divine idea or purpose, but was badly mistaken. 
Notwithstanding his robust way of thinking, John 
must have been weak-minded on some things. 

Celsus, a pagan philosopher of the second cent- 
ury, opposed Christianity bitterly, and said a great 
many foolish things in trying to arrive at the truth. 

Cerinthus promised his followers a millennium 
of sensual indulgence. It seems unnecessary to 
add that he had a large number of followers. 

The Eclectics, a school of ancient philosophers, 
8 



114 PHANTASMAGOIilAN THEOLOGY. 

taught that the end of philosophy was the Hberation 
of the soul from corporal imprisonment. 

Epicurus, B. C. 300, taught that happiness was 
the only desirable thing, and that it consisted in 
bodily ease and mental tranquillity. He denied 
the existence of a God, and his followers were 
mere sensualists. 

The Hopkinsonians endeavored to humanize 
Calvinism, with indifferent success. 

Lamaism was, and to some extent is, the great 
religion of Thibet. Its followers worship a deiiied 
man — the "Grand Lama." 

Lucian, the celebrated philosopher, classed 
Christianity with fanaticism and superstition. 
Probably he wanted to keep in the drift of public 
opinion. 

The Millenarians believed that Christ will reign 
a thousand years on the earth after the resurrection 
of the dead. I candidly believe that every one 
should be willing to leave the earth after death. 

Plato concluded that the highest good to man 
was in the contemplation and knowledge of God. 

The Socians believed that Jesus Christ was a 
mere man, and that the wicked descend to hell 
after death, and have all the sin broiled out of their 
spiritual carcasses, and made proper subjects for 
heaven. 

Baron von Swedenborg, the great head-light of 
the Swedenborgians, asserted that during a period 
of twenty-seven years he held open intercourse 
with the world of departed spirits. 

Therefore, Christianity was not manufactured 



phAntAsMAgorian theology. I 1 5 

from raw material, but embraces the ideas of its 
own learned adherents as w^ell as the riches of hu- 
man experience and the good things of all creeds - 
and dogmas. As soldiers in a foreign land hover 
around pleasant camp-fires at night, so the human 
race has hovered around creeds and dogmas from . 
the beginning of time. Countless numbers of re- - 
ligions and forms of faith have been swallowed up ■' 
and forgotten ; man}' of the great number of beliefs '■ 
that prevail are weak and faltering, but the essence" 
of all religious creeds is cemented in the founda- 
tions of that perfect religion which is to be. 

Ancient Judaism, the oldest religion in the worlds 
w^as spiritual and pure ; but the Judaism that con- 
fronted Christ was neither spiritual nor progress- 
ive. Formality had withered the fervency of its 
adherents, and superstition was the ruling element 
of the faith. Its priests were cunning, wicked and 
powerful ; but the lowly Nazarene was not afraidi 
to speak, and, with a boldness that startled the- 
nation, denounced them, and branded them witb 
shame. From the hills of old Galilee the ei:hoes'. 
went flying through the earth, and the kingdom^ 
of human love was established. It is of no conse- 
quence whatever that many of the immediate fol- 
lowers of Christ were men of lowly birth- — men^ 
whom the world despised on account of their pov- 
erty, ignorance and credulit}^ ; who were supersti- 
tious, and whose doctrines were condemned and' 
ridiculed by the learned men of the following cent- 
uries ; who were considered fanatical, and of such' 
small importance that writers and historians of sue- 



Il6 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

ceeding ages either spoke of them sneeringly or 
treated them with silent contempt. 

Jesus Christ gained a victory for humanity, and 
the unknown God placed the seal of endurance 
upon it. The atrocities and monstrosities of Ca- 
tholicism for a time marred the sanctity of this re- 
ligion, and thumb-screws, pillories, stocks, strait- 
jackets, racks, wheels, the "iron virgin" and the 
many instruments of torture almost destroyed the 
•spirit of love and tolerance which Christ intended 
should prevail. The popes of the Catholic church, 
-each in his reign, were idolized by the laity, and 
one fine day one proclaimed himself God. Now, 
I think this pope had spasmodic twitchings after 
fame, and, possibly, was half full of "Kentucky 
moonshine" w4ien he made the announcement; 
but as it seemed to have no immediate disastrous 
effect on the nerve-centers of Catholicism, he al- 
lowed it to stand. The wicked priests of this or- 
ganization told the people that they held the keys 
to the back door of purgatory, and could pray a 
soul out of hell and into heaven, and refused to 
allow any one to escape from the lower regions 
until he had been paid for in hard cash. Of course, 
the surviving relatives of the people who were 
-supposed to be in the undying flames would pay 
^exorbitant prices for their release. Sometimes a 
two-dollar man would bring as much as five hun- 
dred dollars, and sometimes a man on his death- 
laed, w^ho was not quite certain to pass a rigid oral 
examination, would give the priest a sum of money 
with which to bribe the door-keeper of the New 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THKOLOGY. II7 

Jerusalem. Indulgences were sold, and a man 
could be as wicked as he pleased as long as he 
paid for it. But there were men, even in those 
days, within the pale of the church who rebelled 
against the wickedness of Catholicism, and St. 
Bernard and Luther came from their monasteries. 
and proclaimed the doctrines of reform. The gen- 
tle and progressive Protestant faith was given to- 
the world, baptized in blood, but symmetrical. As- 
time goes by it expands, and becomes more pre- 
cious to the race. By and by its crudities will 
disappear ; untenable positions will be abandoned ; 
preachers will preach exactly what a majority of 
their congregations now believe ; the doctrine of 
divine hate will be smothered ; clergymen will be 
men of kindly ways, abounding in love, and strong 
in their desire to serve mankind in the most effect- 
ive way. The essence of this religion will never 
die, and the great religion of the future will be 
purified Protestant Christianity. From the bosom 
of this old religion the new religion will arise, tall 
and stately and beautiful, towering " above the 
wrecks of time." Protestantism, reformed Cathol- 
icism, and there is no organization in the world at 
present doing more practical good than the Catho- 
lic church. Whenever an epidemic of cholera,, 
small-pox, yellow fever, or any destructive disease, 
prevails, you can find thousands of sweet-faced 
Sisters of Charity and good priests willing to sac- 
rifice everything, even their lives, in caring for the 
sick. In every land you will find them working 
among the destitute and down-trodden for the up- 



Il8 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

building of Christ's kingdom in general and the 
.good of the Catholic church in particular. With 
all of its splendor and attraction, however, Cathol- 
icism is inferior to Protestantism, and will be as 
long as the pope is God and the bishops pin-feather 
angels. These two isms are not as wide apart as 
formerly, and it may be they will progress into 
each other ; and just up the road infidelit}' naay 
crawl out from under the bushes and keep step 
with them. 

Why should infidels seek to injure the cause of 
Christ? Are not infidels and christians equally 
interested in the welfare of society? The legiti- 
mate work of infidelity should be not only to re- 
move from christianitv all that is hurtful and 
abominable, but to sustain and protect its beauty 
and strength. The obvious duty of Christianity is 
to get closer to the heart of the world ; to drink 
from the fountains of w^isdom that priestcraft has 
sealed : to taste of the sweet arid forbidden fruit of 
ihuman supremacy and religious tolerance, that is, 
;to recognize that humanity needs help more than 
>'God needs glory ; and to consider wisely and with 
patience the opinions of other men, in order that 
.truth and justice and mercv may endure forever, 
.and bring greater blessings. Christian civilization 
is the common propert}^ of all men. It needs 
strength not only from the world, but from the 
church. Camp-meeting revehy is not the onl}^ 
-evidence of vitality in the church ; people in these 
da}' s require richer spiritual viands. Animal mag- 
netism is a good thing with which to generate en- 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. I I9 

thusiasm, but faith, hope and charity are better for 
the soul. After all, what wonderful progress 
Christianity has made ! Only a short w^hile ago 
the garments of every preacher were tainted with 
a smell of sulphur and brimstone ; but now a 
change has come over the spirit of the clergymen's 
dreams. In fact, the ''far oft' divine event" is 
-drawing nearer, and humanity will in time be on 
the warm bosom of those might}^ billows that will 
move every creature heavenward. In the warmth 
and tenderness and grandeur of that great sea of 
civilization superstition and vice will be swallowed 
up, and virtue will triumph. 

Yes, the great and coming religion will be so 
perfect that reason will be satisfied, and all men 
will accept it, believing that to be like Christ 
should be the highest aim of every citizen. So 
strong and beautiful will this religion be that it will 
embrace the gentleness and humanity of Bud- 
dhism, the classical beauty of Greek mythology, 
the progressive spirit of Christianity and the spirit- 
uality of Judaism ; in fine, it will be a religion of 
truth and love, having none of the abominations 
of past and present religions. This readjusted re- 
ligion of Christ will be grand and symmetrical and 
beautiful ; it will girdle the earth, and humanit}^ 
will be " redeemed by the blood of the Lamb." 



UNTO DUST. 

Oh ! softly step, and breathing low, 
For waning woods are cold and drear, 

And sybils from the land of snow 
Are drawing near. 

Let dead leaves fly and fall and die, 

For death and doom have claimed the flow'rs. 
And hearts may sigh and wonder why, 

In lonely hours. 

So from the tree of life each day 

The clinging souls of men are hurled ; 

They plead, and pray, and drift away 
Out of the world. 

Out of the world, in darkness deep, 

The tide of life forever flows ; 
There is no hope for those who weep 

In Sharon's rose. 

For love and faith have listened long 
Where death has closed its gloomy door 

But hear no tread or sound of song 
Forevermore. 



CHAPTER IX. 

And the name of this isle is the long ago, 

And we bury our treasures there ; 
There are brows of beauty and bosoms of snow ; 
There are heaps of dust — but we love them so! 

There are trinkets and tresses of hair. 

There are fragments of songs that nobody sings; 

There's a part of an infant's prayer; 
There are broken vows and pieces of rings; 
There's a lute unswept and a harp without strings, 

And the garment she used to wear. 

— Benj. F. Taylor, 

Dear as remembered kisses after death, 
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned 
On lips that are for others ; deep as love. 
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret ; 
O death in life, the days that are no more ! 

— Tennyson, 

The vicissitudes of life are so innumerable, the 
edicts of destiny are so harsh, and the winged 
hours glide so swiftly aw^ay, that the days and 
weeks and years of our being seem swallowed up 
in fruitless endeavor. 

A man may achieve success in any calling if he 
possesses unimpaired mental and physical endow- 
ments ; but as few men possess this strong combi- 
nation of powers, and muscle sometimes develops 
at the expense of brain, and brain at the expense 
of muscle, and so many are strong^ Dhysically and 



122 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

weak mentally, and some strong mentally and 
weak physically, therefore the man of brawn usu- 
ally accomplishes physical possibilities and the 
man of brains mental possibilities — each according 
to his strength. One, with a rich cargo of mental- 
ity and spirituality, may be counted a failure by 
the world on account of his inability to endure the 
hardships and privations of manual labor. An- 
other, with beefy proportions, by the aid of animal 
magnetism and brute force, may occupy a high 
place on the ladder of fame ; for ability to endure 
and make a noise is often rewarded by a crown of 
success. But only a few are satisfied with the re- 
sults of their labors, and when they consider life in 
its entirety are ready to accord with Solomon : 
*' Vanity of vanities ; all is vanity.'^ 

Franklin, with his kite ; Joseph Henry, with his 
electro-magnet ; Archimedes, with the lever ; Her- 
schel, with his telescope ; Davy, with his mining 
lamp ; Toricelli, with the barometer ; Watts, with 
his steamboat ; Gutenberg, with his printing press ; 
Fraunhofer, with his spectrum ; Gioja, with his 
compass ; Howe, with his sewing-machine ; Edi- 
son, with his phonograph ; Lock3^er, with his spec- 
troscope ; Draper in photography, Boyle in pneu- 
matics, Laplace in celestial mechanism, and Sir 
William Thompson in electricity, have jarred the 
world b}^ the results of their unceasing toil. Ores- 
ted the Danish philosopher, Amper the French 
philosopher, Faraday, Sturgeon, Graham, Morse, 
Bell, Keppler, Proctor, Tyndall, Carlisle, Nichol- 
son, Berzelius, Ramagnosi, Galvani, Hare, Silli- 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. I 23 

man, Torre}^, Agassiz, Gray, Bache, Baird, New- 
ton, Cuvier, Arago, Wollaston, Huxley, Wallace, 
Darwin and Spencer, learned men and great lights 
of science — how they shine ! The Alexanders of 
theology ; the Booths, Barretts, Kembles and Gar- 
ricks of the drama ; the Bulwers and De Quinceys 
of literature ; the Girards, Wilberforces, Howards, 
Smithsons and De Pauws of philanthropy ; the 
Adamses and Gladstones of statesmanship ; the 
Casinis of mathematics ; the Grants and Bona- 
partes of war ; the Beethovens and Mozarts of 
music — their numbers are legion, and their works 
are the sinews of civilization. Gustave Dore, with 
his terrible prowess ; Raphael, with his Madonnas ; 
Michael Angelo, with his sybils ; Angelico, with 
his saints ; and Correggio, with his celestial in- 
fants, have left the imprint of their genius on the 
sands of time, and gave the nations of the earth a 
richer legacy than the hoarded wealth of the Sier- 
ras. Their names will endure ; their fame is per- 
petual. Great workers, and men buoyed by the 
afflatus of genius, have left their names emblazoned 
on the history of every age. They worshiped the 
same pursuits that other men worshiped in former 
ages, and erected similar altars to ihe same gods. 
The earth in any age, for aught we know, could 
have marshaled an army of great thinkers — learned 
men ; intellectual men, skilled in the arts and sci- 
ences ; men with great souls, and hearts throbbing 
with compassion for humanity ; not too high up to 
labor, nor too low down to grasp the idea of God 
and immortality. 



124 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

Wonderful Socrates, the lone star of all the 
ages ! What a halo of glory environs his name ! 
His sublime doctrines will never lose their power 
to heal and bless. Splendid in life, he was even 
so in death. When the fatal draught of hemlock 
was freezing his blood and numbing his sensibili- 
ties, in the latest hour of his life, he uncovered his 
head, and asked that Crito would pay for him a 
small debt he owed to ^sculapius — remembering 
to keep his honor untarnished even while the world 
was slipping from his grasp. Greatest of all phil- 
osophers, and an honest man. Jesus Christ, nailed 
to the cross and suffering death, cried: "Father, 
forgive them, for they know not w^hat they do.'* 
Greatest of all philanthropists, pleading for mercy 
on his enemies even as the gates of darkness were 
opening to receive him. 

But let us not, in contemplating the lives and 
characters of the mighty ones, forget that they are 
only stars that shine above the darkness of the 
world, guiding and directing the great multitude 
to the higher and better walks of life. Like the 
leaves of the forest, or the sands on the sea-shore, 
is the vast and innumerable throng of bread-win- 
ners who constitute the file of humanity's great 
army. They are the common soldiers ; the wasest 
and best are leaders, but the king is absent. From 
the inmost courts of his dark castle the great com- 
mander rules and directs, and his soldiers will 
meet him by and by. These toilers of land and 
sea, these pathfinders of civilization, subdue the 
wilderness, and load the argosies of commerce 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. I 25 

with the wealth of foreign lands. With undaunted 
courage, they seek and find the hoarded treasures 
of the mountains, and garner the accumulations of 
centuries ; they energize aud keep in motion the 
great machinery of the world. May peace and 
prosperity and happiness find an abiding place 
with them. But peace and prosperity and happi- 
«ness are marred in this struggle after the unattain- 
able. Every honorable and respectable man is 
somewhere on the ladder, and such a one is always 
grasping after the round above him. At all times 
under the shadow of impending doom, he feels the 
dark presence at his side ; the breath of decays is 
upon all he loves ; he suffers the despoliations of 
■disease and the ravages of misfortune until the 
great and final disaster lays him low. Only a 
chemical change, and then — heaven? Oris it true 
that immortality is the crown of evolution — a haven 
of rest, developed and completed in the eternity of 
the past? 

Sowing, reaping, garnering — such is the process 
of human existence. Sowing to reap ; reaping to 
garner; garnering to retain and increase. We 
can not enjoy to a full extent the splendid triumphs 
of brain and heart, because weal and woe so 
strangely intertwine and interlace our being. We 
can not altegether disentwine the folly of youth 
from the wisdom of age. The tares that spring 
up in the Utopian fields of youth must be uprooted, 
or the harvest will be unfruitful, and the store- 
house will be filled with rubbish. Strive as we 
will, we must gather some thistles and some thorns. 



126 PHAXTASMAGORIAX THEOLOGY. 

The past — embittered by failures and defeats and 
heart-aches — with all its mournful shadows, rises 
up to curse our moments of bliss, and its dim 
ghosts meet us at everv turn. The common lot of 
common men is made up of commonplace events — 
events which are terrible and tragic, notwithstand- 
ing they are commonplace. 

An old man reviewing the vears of his life would! 
soliloquize about as follows : 

Threescore years and ten to-day I What have they been, and! 
what have they brought me ? Alas ! the brazen tongues of mem- 
ory speak of things I would forget. Serpents coil around my ach- 
ing heart, and old wounds bleed afresh. From grass-grown ave- 
nues and half-forgotten by-ways and wildwoods of the past a 
hoarse breeze, freighted with death and desolation, quivers and 
trembles, and up through my very life a phantom chorus chants 
the sweet and solemn strains of long ago. Once again I wander 
through the green fields of youth, a sunny-eyed boy chasing but- 
terflies and scattering blue-bells and daisies around the threshold! 
of manhood ; once again I kneel at mother's knees and pray ; once; 
again I hear the tread of angels guarding my slumbers. Oh, land* 
of childhood ! where beauty is never dim, where never a flower- 
fades, and never a spring runs dry, once again I drink your sweet: 
forgetful strains! Farewell, farewell, dear echoes from the past — 
bright dreams of dim days ! Distant days ! Your stars are pale p, 
your moons have waned ; your suns are veiled forever. Ah ! well 
do I remember when first I left the harebells and the daisies ; 
when the glad, familiar haunts of boyhood smiled no more, and 
the laughing waters of youth did change to sober meaning. How 
proud I was when first I buckled on the armor! How I tossed 
my shield in the sunlight ! How my bright plume danced in the 
breeze ! How fiercely I thrust my lance against the breast-plate 
of many a mailed warrior — fancy-born and victim of a hot desire ! 
How I hastened to the battle-field of life, strong and full of hope ! 
What matter if other men had failed? What matter if the field 
was covered with the bones of heroes bleaching in the sand? 
Others had sufiFered ; others had met the dark messenger beneath- 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. I 27 

the dreadful hoofs of the war dragon ; but no matter. / would 
not; / was strong; / would be a hero, and hew my path to vic- 
tory ; /would hurl dismay into the camp of my enemies, and plant 
my banner on their fortress, and kindle my camp-fires with the 
trophies of battle! 

What of the dreams of youth? What of the hopes of man- 
hood ? Where is she whose love-lit eyes found my heart, and 
shone like stars when all the day of life grew dark — who wooed 
and gained my soul? Where are my children ? and where are the 
friends of other years? Some are dead, and some are far away. 
Where is my little boy, my first-born, who clasped within each 
tiny hand a human heart — a woman's heart and mine? He died. 
Yes, he died ; yet he lives in memory exalted. He sits in my lap 
to-day, and winds his tiny arms around my neck ; once more he 
smiles in childish glee, and his blue eyes dance with mirth. Once 
again the woman who led me through the tempest, and was my 
strength when burdens were heavy, stands by my side, and all the 
absent ones and all the dead ones file through mystic doorways, 
and the vacant chairs are empty no longer ; my white locks tufn 
to brown, and I am strong again ; the evening lamps are burning, 
and on the hearth-stone the red flames blaze and bicker. 

Now, in the bosom of my family, I hold a sweet communion ! 
In the green halls of memory, where all the ashes of the past are 
blown away just for a moment, and the crumbling walls of time 
are covered with flowers, I taste in retrospection the sweetest cup 
ever pressed to human lips ; I drink the purest draughts that flow 
in the river of life, and breathe the freest, holiest breeze ever 
wafted from heaven to earth — the blessed fruition known in peace- 
ful, happy homes. 

But all is gone. 'Twas only a gleam that flashed from heaven 
and returned. I am old again. My eyes are dim, my steps are 
feeble, and my locks are as white as the blooms of the almond 
tree. Gone are the joys of youth ; withered are the hopes of man- 
hood ; sad as the wail of orphans, and bitter as the anguish of 
broken hearts, is all my life to-day. But here on this barren 
waste, where ruin revels and desolation breeds decay, where mer- 
ciless winds beat gray rocks and cold waves lash gloomy shores 
forever — here on this lonely spot in the great desert of human life 
I'll bare my head to the pitiless storm and fight the King of Ter- 
rors ; and high above the roar of the tempest, deeper than the 



128 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

clash of thunderbolts, my voice shall ring defiance; and never 
shall a groan escape me, and never shall the white flag wave, 
though, worn out and prostrate, I'll soon be a wreck on the dead 
shores of time. 

Perhaps the testimony of the aged is too mourn- 
ful, and too much tinctured with the faihu'es and 
defeats of life ; but it suggests that life is a curse 
unless there is something behind the "veil that 
intervenes." 

Old age is, truly, the winter of human life ; it 
embraces the entirety of mortal existence ; it is the 
sum of days and years allotted to man ; embers 
that burn lower and lower on the hearth-stone, until 
nothing but ashes remains. 



TO OXE IX HEAVEX. 

Knelt she where our love could give her 
Refuge not from death and gloom. 

On the margin of a river. 

Flowing like the tide of doom. 

And the darkness that received her 

Shrouds for aye the gates of light ! 
And the parting pangs that grieved her 

Whisper in my dreams by night. 

Oh. mj precious one in heaven. 

Barren is my tangled way ; 
Tried by fire, and bruised and driven 

All the dreary livelong day. 

Darling, when the night is falling. 
And the world is half asleep. 

And the trailing winds are calling 
Spirits from the awful deep : 

Oh, come in thy wondrous beauty. 
With eyes like the summer sun } 

In the royal robes of duty. 
In the peace of victory won. 

As a mother comes, and weeping, 
Clasp in your arms all my joy ; 

Precious sweet ones in my keeping. 
My brave little girl and boy. 

Touch the deep garb of my sorrow. 
Strengthen my soul to endure; 

Break the dark guise of to-morrow,. 
Teach me that love is secrire. 



CHAPTER X. 

Oar lamps are burning now, some more brightly than others y 
some shed their light from the mountain's top and others from, 
lowly vales; but let us so trim them that they may all burn with 
equal brilliancy when relighted in our mansions beyond the mys- 
terious river. — /o/in A. Logan, 

In the red desert moulders Babylon, 

And the wild serpent's hiss 
Echoes in Petra's palaces of stone, 

And waste Persepolis.. — Bayard Taylor^ 

I am as old as Egypt to myself, 

Brother to them that squared the pyramids ; 

By the same stars I watch ; I read the page 

Whose every letter is a glittering world 

With them who looked from Shinar's clay-built towersv 

— Oliver Wendell Holmes. 

The soul may be an emanation from the good 
God, or a donation from nature ; whatever it is, or 
may be, man has learned to consider it more valu- 
able than the body. The first intelligent being 
who lived upon this earth must have had direct; 
intercourse with God ; if not, the idea of immor- 
tality was innate, and, being an attribute of the 
natural body, was susceptible to a high develop- 
ment under the rigid discipline of that wrinkled^ 
old school-marm, Dame Nature. Somewhere oH'^ 
the backward track man lost his tail and gained a 
soul. When, how, or why, we do not know, but 
it is certain that humanity grasped the idea of im-- 



132 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

mortality and clung to it, with a deathless grip, 
through the dark ages of the past. 

Before the appearance of the Latin Vulgate, or 
the Greek Septuagint ; before the children of Is- 
rael were guided by the dictates of the Pentateuch ; 
l)efore Eusebius and Pamphilus resurrected Ori- 
gen's Hexapla from a corner of the city of Tyre ; 
before the prophecy of Haggai ; before the here- 
sies of the Apocrypha were penned ; before the 
IVIishna was delivered to the great law-giver of 
Israel ; before the Apocalypse ; before the Koran, 
Vedas, Zendavesta and Edda ; before the law and 
the prophets ; before the beginning of histor}^, 
away back through the dark thoroughfare of time, 
the human soul laid hold of eternal life. It the 
Old and New Testaments had not been written, or 
any theories formulated by great minds, a belief 
in the immortality of the soul would have remained 
to cheer the way of the people. 

All religions and beliefs with which the human 
race has wrestled were stepping-stones by which 
^civilization reached its present high estate, and the 
-religion of Jesus Christ is the added sum of all re- 
ligions. It is quite true, as we have learned from 
the seer of Persia: " In each man's bosom there 
'is an angel of light and an angel of darkness." 
"These angels contend for the mastery on the un- 
.seen battle-fields of the soul, and in men's conduct 
we may reaaily discern which angel has gained 
the victory, or whether the battle is still raging. 

A sculptor stood before a great stone with mallet 
and chisel, and worked unceasingly until his task 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 1 33.: 

was finished — leaving upon the rock the imprint 
of human genius ; an artist in his studio toiled in^ 
the light of day and in the shades of evening, ten- 
derly, passionately, faithfully, until the fair face of 
a sweet young girl looked out from the canvas. 
These were not achievements of brawn and brain 
alone, for the angel of light held the mallet and 
chisel, and without her aid the stone would have 
remained without form or loveliness. The brush 
of the painter was guided by the angel, or the can- 
vas would have remained void of life and beauty^ 

A good book, a musical poem, a splendid paint- 
ing, or a classical bit of statuary, is the legitimate- 
result of an overflow of soul — which, springing up- 
ward and outward, brings immortality to life. 

The human race is a great figure one, and each 
man, woman and child is a fraction of a unit. 
Each fraction is, or should be, interested in the 
common weal of the unit. Mankind is fast learn- 
ing the blessings of moderation and toleration in 
regard to religious beliefs, for we have reached the 
limits of the knowable, as far as future life is con- 
cerned, and must accept by faith what we can not 
prove. Why should men wage eternal warfare 
about things which no one can be certain? 

Infidelity and Christianity should meet, some 
afternoon in June, where the healing breezes of 
moderation are blowing and the sweet flowers 
of brotherly love are blooming, and confess, can- 
didly and honestly, their sins and errors, telling 
the world what the world already knows — that 
they do not know anv'hing about the secrets of 



134 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

eternity ; that human eyes have never peered be- 
hind the thick veil of the tomb, and that reason 
fails to comprehend the alpha and omega of human 
destiny. 

Infidelity can not afford to fight Christianity ; 
Christianity can not afford to fight infidelity with 
that most caustic of all carnal weapons — the 
tongue ; because any creed offered to the world 
should contain the essential elements of truth, and 
should be weighed and accepted for what it is 
worth. 

Au}^ of the accepted theories in regard to future 
iife may be exactly right : all of them may be 
•elaborately wrong. Great souls are forever reach- 
ing out through the wilderness in search of central 
truth ; great brains are forever striving to find the 
unknown quantity of a problem not clearly defined ; 
but all in vain. The bright star of hope alone 
leads man through the deep vales and tangles of 
life ; it guides the Esquimau across the eternal 
•snows of Labrador ; it dwells with the barbarians 
in the wilds of Parthia ; it soothed the wandering 
Hebrews on the hill-sides and in the villages of 
Judea ; it sustains the pious Brahmin as he medi- 
tates in the jungle ; it dwelt with David and his 
little armv, and cheered the solitude of desert 
•caves of Engedi ; it cheered the shepherds on the 
plains of Bethlehem : it was a lamp to Abraham's 
posterity ; ages ago it illumined the dark groves 
of Academus ; it glows in the splendors of Grecian 
art ; in the dim islands, through deserts and path- 
less wildwoods, in the burning sands of Africa, in 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 135 

sunny Italy, in the frozen regions of the North, 
and in every spot on earth where man has dared 
to tread, or abide, hope has cheered his lonely 
hours, and he endures without complaint. 

Theodosius was placed upon the rack and suf- 
fered untold agony, but by and by an angel in 
white stood by his side wiping the moisture from 
his brow and soothing him with gentle words. 
Thus hope stands by when man needs a comforter ; 
a bright celestial youth, healing the dull pain and 
pointing the way to heaven. 

No creed has a monopoly of faith, hope and 
love ; they are the common property of the human 
race ; and a man may have faith in God, a hope of 
heaven and love his neighbor as himself without 
pinning himself to any form of religious belief. 

Infidelity is a reptile that has crawled from the 
gates of Eden, hooded and venomous, and its 
slimy length runs through all history. The spirit 
of Christianity is like the dove that came from the 
ark and spread its wings above a wasted world. 
Side by side the dove and serpent have traveled 
through time, each in its own way striving to 
vanquish the other. 

Behold, now, a miracle ! The dove has be- 
guiled the serpent. The snake has lost all of its 
venom and hood, and is making an honest and 
successful effort to be less of a snake. 

The dove is more dove-like than in other times, 
and its soft music falls like the notes of a flute on 
the ears of the reptile, and by and by the sweet 
persuasive voice will have it under control. 



136 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

It is because Christianity is becoming more of a 
dove and infidelity less of a serpent that the world 
will find an adjustable religion, one which will em- 
brace the entirety of the race, and the true cath- 
olicity of which will enable all men to labor to- 
gether for the advancement of civilization. "After 
all," says Mr. Ingersoll, "we know so litde, and 
it is such a short way from mother's lap to the lap 
of the mother of us all — therefore, it becomes us to 
assume the modesty of morality." Thus infidelity 
is losing its disagreeable features and becoming 
more soulful and tender ; its advocates of to-day 
talk of hope and love and human happiness in 
much the same way christians talk. It is also true 
that Christianity has laid aside forever many of its 
terrible features, and is becoming purer and more 
intellectual. The world has learned to respect the 
opinions of honest men, and to give due credit 
and honor to whom it belongs. The dove in be- 
guiling the serpent has gained intellectually, and 
the serpent, as it listens to the soft persuasive voice, 
gains spiritually ; both are wiser and worthier, and 
the era of progress which is to develop the great 
religion of the future is at hand. The ideas and 
propositions of Christianity and infidelit}/- are about 
the same now as in the ages past, but they appear 
to the world in a different light. Religions and 
forms of faith, like sewing-machines and agricult- 
ural implements, are changed and improved to 
meet the demands of a progressive civilization. 
Therefore, we are to-day face to face with improved 
infidelity and improved Christianity. To-day we 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 137 

see the roses and lilies which in other ages were 
obscured ; the common people of civilized coun- 
tries are educated to a higher standard than the 
common people of olden times. The preacher of 
to-day, if he would hold high rank, must talk of 
hope and love, and leave the terrible things unsaid. 

The rulers of antiquity in Oriental lands were 
in possession of untold wealth ; kings and queens 
were billionaires, and myriads of slaves gathered 
treasures of land and sea into the treasure-houses 
of their masters. Like a bright dream, the splen- 
dor of the Orient has faded. Nothing of its former 
glory remains, except in the dim, uncertain out- 
lines of history. Its ruined empires and cities — 
magnificent even in ruins — were the once populous 
domains of ancient times. Their vanished gran- 
deur can not be approximated, and the traveler of 
to-day can only view with amazement the mute 
evidences of such a mighty civilization. We can 
not be certain about the civilization of the past ; 
we know not its attainments and defeats, but can 
safely surmise that the present civilization is the 
best the world has ever known. 

Babylon, capital of Chaldea, was founded 4,000 
years ago by Nimrod. Its stupendous works ren- 
dered it the wonder of posterity. According to 
Herodotus it was 60 miles in circumference, with 
walls 300 feet high and 75 feet in breadth, built of 
brick. The immense temple of Belus, or Jupiter, 
with a tower 660 feet high, was within, and here 
was the observatory by the help of which the 
Babylonians arrived at such perfection in astron- 



138 PHAXTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

omy. Here Calisthenes. the philosopher, made 
astronomical observations which reached back- 
ward to the time of the flood — almost. Here was 
a palace eight miles in circumference, strongly 
fortified and magniticently made, with hanging 
gardens and tine architecture. But the wonderful 
fertilitv of Chaldea and the mag-nificence of Babv- 
Ion are things of the past, and the words of the 
prophet still retain their force : *' Babylon is fallen, 
is fallen, and all the graven images of her gods 
he hath broken unto the ground. Oh. daughter of 
the Chaldeans ! for thou shalt no more be called 
the lady of kingdoms." 

Solomon built Tadmar. afterward called Pal- 
myra. Its ruins consist ot a forest of Corinthian 
pillars, erect and fallen, so numerous that the 
visitor is at a loss to know for what purpose thev 
were assigned. Numerous palaces, temples, por- 
ticoes, galleries, arches, groups of columns, rows 
of columns, like trees on the ground, and sub- 
verted shafts, are scattered around. The earth is 
strewn with stones, half buried with broken en- 
tablatures, mutilated prizes, disfigured relics, 
etlaced sculptures, violated tombs, and altars de- 
filed with dust; also, a temple of the sun, whose 
ruins tower above all the rest. 

Xinevah, capital of Assyria. 1,230 years before 
Christ, was the crreatest citv in the world. Its 
walls were one hundred feet high, three chariots 
wide, and supported tifteen hundred towers, each 
t\vo hundred feet high. The city was forty-eight 
miles in circumference, and. eight hundred years 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 1 39 

before Christ, had a population of six hundred 
thousand. Of this city the prophet Nahum said : 
*^Thou hast multiplied thy merchants above the 
stars of heaven. Thy crowned are as the locusts, 
and thy captains as the great grasshoppers which 
camp in the hedges." There is nothing left of the 
former glory and splendor of this city. The place 
where it stood can scarcely be determined. 

The city of Alexandria was founded by Alex- 
ander the Great, and was one of the most famous 
cities of Egypt several centuries before Christ. 
At one time it contained a library of nearly a mill- 
ion volumes, and had an academy, at which a 
society of learned men devoted themselves to 
philosophical studies. Amrou, on capturing the 
city, said: ''I have taken the great city of the 
West. It is impossible for me to enumerate the 
variety of its riches and beauty. It contains four 
thousand palaces, four thousand baths, four hun- 
dred theaters and places of amusement, and twelve 
thousand shops for the sale of vegetable food." 
To-day the city is in ruins. 

Heliopilus, or the *' City of the Sun," was in an- 
cient times noted for its magnificent architecture, 
wealth and luxury. At one time a portion of the 
traffic of India passed through it and it flourished 
like a bay tree. The site of this great city is 
almost lost; and Strabo, the ancient geographer, 
who visited it nineteen hundred years ago, said 
that it was then desolate and almost entirely de- 
serted. 

Si don was for man}^ ages the greatest commer- 



140 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

cial city of the world ; and fourteen hundred years 
before Christ Joshua called it " Great Sidon." 
It was founded four thousand years ago, but decay 
and time have left only traces of its former 
grandeur. 

Tyre, " The Strong City" and '' Queen of the 
Sea," monopolized the trade of nations for one 
thousand years. The original city withstood the 
siege of Nebuchadnezzar's great army for thirteen 
years, after which the inhabitants sacked the place 
and withdrew to an island. There is scarcely a 
trace of its former opulence. 

Antioch, founded three hundred years before 
Christ, had a population of nearly half a million. 
It contained the grove of Daphne, *' Head of 
Charon," magnificent palaces and temples which 
were wonderful works of art. This city was called 
the " City of God" and the " Queen of the East." 
Its greatness is a thing of the past. 

Corinth, a ruined city of Greece, was at one 
time the commercial center between Southern 
Europe and Western Asia. The temple of Venus 
made her peerless in the minds of the ancients; 
here one thousand priestesses and goddesses min- 
istered to the licentious passions of the worship- 
ers. 

The great wall of China, fifteen hundred miles 
in length, traverses mountains, valleys, rivers and 
ravines. It is twenty-two feet high, and about 
twenty-five feet wide, fortified by strong towers of 
equal distance of one hundred yards, in which 
guards were stationed. 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. I4I 

Yesterday civilization was like a bird of para- 
dise, transcendently beautiful but songless ; to-day 
it soars like an eagle and sings as sweetly as the 
nightingale. Yesterday civilization was like the 
Florida rose, without perfume, or like the cypress 
of Greece, which is the most perfect of all trees, 
but bears no fruit ; to-day its soft breezes are bur- 
dened with sweet perfumes, and its fruits are ripen- 
ing for the harvest. 

Yesterday civilization was a caterpillar ; to-day 
it is a butterfly ; to-morrow it will be an angel. 



MY INIARY. 

I know no dreams of fairy-land 

That come to me so sweetly, 
And ne'er a breeze of summer fanned 
The bleakness of a barren strand, 

And scattered life so fleetly. 

My bride, my love of yesterday, 
My peerless queen, my Mary ; 
You touched my heart and turned away> 
But as you went I heard you say : 
"Behold! I am a fairy! " 

The bridal veil is wet with tears ; 

My bride has gone forever. 
I lift my hands to Him who hears 
His children cry, and through the years 

Her voice replies, " Forever! " 

This bridal wreath, ah, me ! it swells 

My wounded soul to heaven. 
Ah, me ! these lovely golden bells — 
Their withered beauty sadly tells 

Why love and hope were given. 

Oh, why did such an awful doom 

Enshroud my bridal morning, 
And crush thy life, and blight thy bloom, 
And bear thee to the land of gloom, 
And why had I no warning? 

No more I stroke thy silken hair, 

And fold thee in my strong embrace ; 
But eyes like stars, so pure and rare, 
Burn through my soul — and everywhere 
I see thy pale and pleading face. 

How blest those holy halcyon days, 
That teemed with song and laughter ! 

And still you walk through all my ways ; 

Your voice floats down the dreary maze, 
Down from the sweet hereafter. 



CHAPTER XI. 

Deep in her inmost heart is stirred the immense shame and 
madness, with commingled grief and love and justice, by rage 
and conscious virtue. — Virgil. 

I pity her and blame her, and am her support. — Voltaire. 

As a rule, faith in God weakens in adversity ; 
but there are natures strong enough to endure to 
the utmost and remain unshaken. If loving eyes 
note the fall of sparrows ; if a mighty love hears 
the cry of starving ravens across the storm ; if a 
great heart tempers the wind to the shorn lamb ; 
should we not be comforted? But doubt makes 
cowards of us all, and in our calamity we feel that 
"God has forsaken the world." Why are vice 
and ignorance and hate allowed to triumph, and 
beauty and love and virtue brought to shame? 

I can not tell why, but a sad face haunts me 
now" ; I knew her well before the shadow of evil 
days fell upon her ; she was a type of all that 
heaven gives to earth — a perfect woman. Do you 
ask me why she walks hand-in-hand with death? 
I can not tell. 

Surely, the saintly powers that guard the souls 
of the pure in heart were overpowered when the 
destroying angel beat its dreadful wings against 
the frail barriers that stood between her and sin. 

She was fair and comely, with the grace and 



144 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

dignity of a queen ; in her heart the excellencies 
of a rare womanhood flourished, and the imprint 
of immortality was upon her ; love had found an 
abiding place — a human temple touched by the 
fingers of God. Her name was known in heaven, 
and the angels watched her while she slept. Day- 
light hours were kissed by sunbeams, and her 
dreams were peopled by star-eyed beings who 
told her the mj^steries of heaven and the bound- 
lessness of love that never dies. Stainless as the 
mighty one who walked upon the bosom of the 
moaning sea ; gentle as the first smiles of day 
upon a sleeping world ; radiant as the glorified 
souls of the just — is it any wonder that many wor- 
shiped at her shrine? A handsome young man, 
with the face of an angel and the heart of a demon, 
won her affections ; as a serpent wooes the sweet 
song-bird from sunlight into the jaws of death — 
so he lured her from peace, and home, and friends. 
Is it any wonder she was lost forever while 
the guardian angels slept? Alas I when the black 
wings of the destroyer beat against the crystal 
gates, the fragile structure gave way, and her 
name was tarnished. Oh I why did the angels 
sleep while the thief robbed her of the rarest gem 
of woman's character? As da3^s went by the one 
she loved proved untrue ; she gave him her soul 
and body, because she loved him, and the angels 
had taught her that love was from God ; he held 
the golden keys that unlocked the doors of a great 
soul ; he carried her treasures away and left noth- 
ing save the agony of a broken heart. Then her 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. I45 

proud spirit drooped and lost its grandeur ; with 
pale face, and sunken eyes, and hollow cheeks, 
she flitted to and fro, like a ghost, caring naught 
for the good and beautiful things of this life, only 
remembering that she was betrayed, and that her 
heart was broken. She had committed the one 
sin which society never forgets nor forgives. In 
her extremity the face of Christ was hidden, and 
into deeper depths of sin she wandered, endeavor- 
ing, in vain, to find some dull narcotic to ease the 
numbing pain that fell upon her. Was she to 
blame? Old friends deserted her, and this seemed 
to be the bitterest draught from her cup of agony. 
Who can understand the thing called friendship? 
It is a precious odor that lingers on the breast of 
the wind ; a flower that lives in sunshine and dies 
in shade ; sometimes beneath its lilies and rose 
leaves a hideous serpent coils ; it is a thing of 
beauty which often conceals an adder ; it is blooms 
and blossoms that sometimes turn to ashes while yet 
in your hands ; a mask that may screen a skeleton ; 
or, perchance, a lie that hides the truth. 

A while ago I saw her — it was summer-time — 
no matter how or where, but she was alone, and 
in her hands she held a guitar. The precious 
chords were silent, and the music had died on her 
lips, for she heard the sound of other music falling 
as gently as a mother's lullaby on the ears of a 
weary child. It was the song of other years, of 
joys that faded, of hopes that withered, of all she 
had lost and all she had loved. The blush of the 

10 



146 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

damask rose was no longer on her cheeks ; her 
Hebe-like contour had lost the supple grace of 
youth ; her eyes, those wonderful eyes in which 
the light of the sun and the blue of the skies were 
blended — so mournful, so tender, so despairing — 
but beyond their pathos and agony a human soul 
was pleading for mercy and — rest. Her beautiful 
hair fell like a tide of sunbeams around her, and 
the silken ripples were the same as in olden days — 
a remnant of her former glory. Alas, she had 
loved even unto death ! The summer wind will tell 
her tales of love no more ; the melody of fore&t 
trees, that give us whispers from the dead, will 
bring her peace no longer. As she walks by the 
running streams sanctified by memories of child- 
hood, she will hear the ripples murmur, "Lost! 
lost ! forever lost ! " But the gates of the after-day 
will not close against her ; a mighty One has re- 
claimed her, and all the dwellers of heaven pro- 
claim her innocence. The awful mysteries of 
Greek and Syrian tragedies are not more gloomy 
and terrible than the real lives of many of the 
fallen women whose wan and pallid faces you 
meet daily. I tell you there are women who love 
so madly and passionately that all reason is cast 
aside, and the all-consuming flames burn them to 
ashes, soul and body. 

Mazeppa-like, such a one is bound and helpless 
on the back of a wild steed that rushes like a 
mighty whirlwind over the broad plain into the 
dark forest beyond. If the steed dies, no "dark- 
eyed Cossack girl" will be near to heal her 



PH-ANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 1 47" 

wounds ; she must die bound to the dead body of 
her love. 

In novels and in the drama the heroines are 
necessarily strong, and their virtues are portrayed 
with as much force as the author can command ; 
only now and then a weak Ophelia or a wicked 
Lady Macbeth is allowed to develop. Shak- 
speare discovered sweet Virgilia, faithful Julia, 
passionate Beatrice, and the forcible characters of 
Cordelia, Desdemona, Isabella, Hermione, Imo- 
gen, Queen Katherine, Perdita, Sylvia, Rosalind, 
Helena. 

Sir Walter Scott gives us some characters en- 
dowed with great strength, grace and rare virtue,, 
and others are clothed with feminine weakness, . 
but all of them great either in their strength or 
weakness, such as Flora Maclvor, Rosa Brad- 
wardine, Catherine Seyton. 

The ideal heroines of novelists bear a strange 
contrast to the heroines of every-day life with 
whom the reader is acquainted. George Eliot, 
with her commonplace heroes and heroines, sought 
to produce real and reasonable characters and to 
follow the natural channels of the brain and heart. 
She succeeded admirably, but was entirely toa 
natural and real to suit the delicate and over- 
strained nervous system of Parson Talmage, wha 
is willing to preach the doctrines of eternal pun- 
ishment and the resurrection of the body, on a 
salary, but shrieks in thunder tones against the 
rugged English lady who dared to mention child- 
birth, illegitimate children and women's legs> 



148 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

"knowing, as she did, that the world was full of 
preachers with delicate organisms. 

In the unwritten tragedies of e very-day life the 
heroines are seldom strong to resist temptation. 
Our sweet American girls love so ardently, so ten- 
derly, so fervently, and sometimes so unwisely, 
and seem to be unconscious of danger or tempta- 
tion until — too late. Society is like Dicken's Mrs. 
>Sparsit, whose eagle eyes and evil heart rejoice 
(to see the sweet-faced and gentle Louisa Bounder- 
'iberys "• go down, down, down the dark stairw^ay " 
of sin into the everlasting abyss. Sweet maidens, 
who make so many homes pleasant and bright, 
and so many hearts glad ! 3"ou are twining flowers, 
like glorious Matilda, on the banks of Lethe ; at 
your feet are the waves of oblivion ; beware lest 
in some moment of rapture 3^ou yield yourselves 
to the dark waters. 

Society — fashionable society — what is it? A 
surging mass of feathers and scorched hair ; a 
■great sea of brocade, velvet, silk, satin, and 
;Some cashmere ; silk hosiery, point lace, small 
ifeet, slim waists, death-colored faces, patent- 
Heather boots, immaculate shirt fronts, waxed mus- 
'<taches, tight corsets, and paralyzed diaphragms ; 
a something that takes the bloom of health from 
'the cheeks of the maiden, and is a wilderness into 
which myriads of young men plunge, and are as 
much lost to the world as the missing tribes of 
Israel ; it is a great fair where anxious mammas 
dispose of their daughters to the highest bidders ; 
at iolerates intellectual imbecility and worships 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. I4.9 

mediocrity ; good clothing is almost a sure pass- 
port to this giddy realm ; true worth and merit are 
its wall-flowers ; and genius turns from it, glad ta 
find the quiet and repose of a shabby garret and a, 
pallet of straw. 

The society man and woman are objects of pity ; 
they forsake the blessings and comforts of home 
life : their very souls are suffocated with flounces,, 
furbelows, broadcloth and nankeen, and deluged 
with ottar of roses. The goddess of fashion is a 
tyrant, and her devotees are slaves ! Of what ac- 
count is a soul fed only on the non-essentials of 
life, or a heart congealed by constant contact with 
the fashionable world? The grandeur and divine 
majest}'-, the far-reaching and wonderful tender- 
ness, of a mother's love are faithfully depicted by 
Victor Hugo in his character, " Fantine," who,, 
being abandoned by her lover and reduced to the 
lowest depths of poverty, sought to maintain and 
provide for her lovely little Cosette. She sacri- 
ficed clothing, jewelry, funiture, and even sold her 
beautiful hair ; two of her pearly teeth were pur- 
chased by a dentist and wrenched from her jaw; 
night and day she toiled for her darling, denying 
herself every comfort and luxury ; suffering be- 
yond human endurance and embracing death 
itself in order that her child might receive proper 
care. Wonderful love 1 Undying devotion of 
maternity I Yet she was only an outcast — an alien 
from good society. 

Gentle reader, stop ! just for a moment I How 
many Fantines do you know? How many loving- 



150 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

hearted girls of your acquaintance have been iso- 
lated by society — fashionable society — inconsist- 
ent society, that shelters the wolf, and forces the 
lamb into outer darkness? Ah, but you sa}^, so- 
ciety needs protection. Granted ; but do you think 
it can afford to refuse mercy to erring and mis- 
guided innocence, when it is so charitable to liber- 
tines and men of bad repute? 

The world never forgives the woman who goes 
astray. Her's is the scarlet sin for which she must 
be punished forever. Even the church of the liv- 
ing God frowns upon her, and fears contamination, 
being filled with disciples who cry out against her. 
Alas, so few of them have the compassionate spirit 
of the great Christ. She may weep, like Niobe, 
until she turns to stone, the world laughs at her 
calamity ; her mournful monod}^ touches no re- 
sponsive chord ; she kneels in the dust, and pleads 
with her sisters for mercy, but the gates of mercy 
are closed forever ; banished from the bosom of 
the world ; forgotten by the God of Ruth and the 
God of Hagar ; with a soul as white as snow, yet 
clothed in the habiliments of despair. Surely 
there must be a God whom no eye but the eye of 
faith can discern ; an invisible Redeemer whom the 
soul finds in thoroughfares of pain and agony and 
repentance ; a Savior who we can neither see nor 
prove — who dwells behind clouds that never break 
away. 

i 



THE SWORD OF THE SPIRIT. 

There are Knights whose plumes are waving 

Where the tide of battle sweeps, 
There are swords forever flashing 

Where the angel Reaper reaps ; 
And the brightest camp-fires sparkle 

In the deepest dark of night, 
When the fearless ones are waiting 

For the coming of the light. 

By an empty throne, a woman 

Watches and waits all in vain 
For the true and loyal footsteps 

That will never come again. 
Ever faithful, ever watchful. 

Even tho' the stars go down, 
Lest some other being enter 

In, and steal away the crown. 

Deep in mem'ries dim and olden, 

Sits a mother pale and gray, 
Dreaming of the days of childhood, 

And the rough and rugged way 
She hath trod with him who loved her, 

And the dear ones still and cold, 
Who have made her grand and saintly — 

In the absent days of old. 

There are lives all scarred and broken 

In the night, for Love's dear sake. 
There are tears too sad for weeping, 

There are hearts too proud to break ; 
And the kindly smiles of Heaven 

Come not where the shadows fall 
On the dauntless ones who bravely 

Face the storm and conquer all. 

And the Knights and woman watching. 

And the mother, pale and gray. 
Are types of the same old story 

We are reading every day, 
In the pallid, patient faces, 

Of the busy throng we meet ; 
In the pathos of the wounded, 

In the trail of bleeding feet. 



CHAPTER XII. 

Dreaming of genius which he never had, 

Half wit, half fool, half critic and half mad ; 

Seizing, like Shirley, on the poet's lyre. 

With all his rage, but not one spark of fire ; 

Eager for slaughter, and resolved to tear 

From other's brow the wreath he must not wear 

Unskilled in classic lore, through envy blind 

To all that's beauteous, learned or refined ; 

For faults alone behold the savage prowl, 

With reason's offal glut the ravening soul, 

Pleased with his prey its inmost blood he drinks, 

And mumbles and paws, and turns it — till k stinks. 

— Anonymous. 
May I reach 
That purest heaven — be to other souls 
The cup of strength in some great agony — 
Be the sweet presence of a good diffused, 
And in diffusion ever more intense! 
So shall I join the choir invisible 

Whose music is the gladness of the world. 

— George Eliot. 

Several years ago I was invited to attend a ses- 
sion of a "select literary circle" in the town of 

, State of Massachusetts. My business — that 

of scattering tracts for the Salvation Arni}^ — made 
anything of a literary character quite a pleasant 
recreation. Being a stranger in the place, and an 

invited guest of my very dear friend , with 

whose rare ability as a writer I was well acquainted, 



154 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

I naturally expected a delightful entertainment, as 
the subject for the evening was to be a critical re- 
view of Edgar A. Poe's famous poem, "The Ra- 
ven. '^ 

My friend entertained an exalted opinion of 
*' The Raven" and its author, and had prepared 
an elaborate and highly polished tribute to the 
memory of the lamented. He informed me that 
this was the first meeting of the circle, and that 
the number in attendance would be small. His 
prediction was correct, for only six persons besides 
the host and hostess were present. The first one 
I shall mention was a ponderous and pompous 
gentleman who seemed to be there en 7iiasse^ and 
was constantly gasping and wheezing as if air had 
a cash value. He was introduced to me as the 
editor of "The Backbone of the Universe," a 
paper which he said had been assailed by envious 
rivals for a half dozen decades, but it was as firm 
as the rocks of Gibralter, with an advertising pat- 
ronage unexcelled by any paper in the State, and 
a subscription-list nearly twice as large as any 
other paper in that county. This blissful state of 
things was brought about by strict attention to the 
wants of the masses, and by unswerving devotion 
to business. His terms, he said, were cash in ad- 
vance, although to accommodate his customers he 
sometimes accepted cord-wood or poultry. Judg- 
ing from his personal appearance, I was quite sure 
that he had mistaken his calling, and had prob- 
ably blundered from a blacksmith-shop into a 
printing-office. 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 1 55 

The next person presented was also an editor. 
His paper bore the somewhat sombre title of "The 
Resurrection." This man was a tall, spare man 
with a beardless face, sparkling all over with a 
desire to create a sensation of some kind, with per- 
fect indifference as to the particular variety. He 
told me that his paper was a new venture, and that 
he had started in to reform everything, regard- 
less of consequences. He was quite certain that 
reformation was needed everywhere, and that the 
age demanded men who were not afraid to speak 
out against everything and everybody on general 
principles. He lectured me, and expatiated on 
the merits of his paper for so long a time, that I 
was filled with dismay lest he should never stop ; 
but I was rescued, unintentionally, by the "Back- 
bone of the Universe," who moved his chair to a 
position where he could hear the words of his 
"esteemed contemporary." An icy silence imme- 
diately followed, during which I escaped the 
loquacious reformer. It is quite possible that this 
man's talents could have been better employed in 
a second-hand clothing store, selling gingham 
neck-wear and shoddy underclothing to the un- 
sophisticated. 

Of the females, one was a woman of easy vir- 
tue, who had managed to retain a standing in 
society by resorting to all kinds of shrewd tricks 
known to society women, and playing "injured 
innocence " to perfection. She was a widow ot 
the vegetable variety, and proud of it. Being 
strong-minded and buxom, she cared but little for 



156 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

the many petty scandals that cropped out along- 
her social pathway, and seemed to think that a 
certain amount of scandal was a necessary adjunct 
to her character. 

An old maid, whose age was quite uncertain, sat 
bolt upright in an easy-chair, wdth a terrified cast 
of countenance. To be thus surrounded by the 
masculine gender, in such close quarters, evidently 
shocked her sense of propriety. Prudence, cau- 
tion and propriety were written all over the sharp 
angles and triangles of her anatomy. Excessively 
proper in all things, and excruciatingly pious, she 
congratulated herself that she had been born a 
woman, and fought the devil simply because he 
was a man. She could talk upon all subjects with 
equal fervor and brilliancy, and her conversation 
at all times was like a spool of silk twist — of equal 
strength all along the line. On account of her 
inability to subdue her vocal organs, she w^as 
known throughout the community as the " Holy 
Terror.'^ 

One of the remaining two, w^hom I give special 
note, w^as a reformed drunkard. He had been 
saved bv the combined efforts of all the churches 
in the place and the blue-ribbon orators, but, I 
regret to sa}-, had been saved on the installment 
plan. Several times since the hour of his con- 
version he had been beastly drunk, and on one 
occasion had reveled with the reptiles ; but he per- 
severed with commendable zeal, and people who 
in former days refused to forgive him for get- 
ting sober now -readily pardoned him for becom- 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. I57 

ing intoxicated. Like all reformed drunkards, he 
was supposed to be a man of great literary ability. 

The other man was a shoemaker by trade, but 
on account of incompetency had never been able 
to hold a job. During the past year he had made 
plow shoes, but his work not giving satisfaction 
he was reduced to the necessity of cobbling in 
order to sustain life. 

At an early hour the old maid requested the 
fair hostess to favor the audience with the " Sweet 
by and by," and she immediately seated herself 
at the dulcimer and did as requested. The effect 
of the music was to " harmonize the forces ; " and 
the fat editor assumed the control of the meeting. 
Upon taking the chair he said: "Ladies and 
gentlemen, I am glad to meet so many of my 
friends here, and hope that at our next meeting 
the weather will be more favorable and the at- 
tendance larger. You all know the object of this 
meeting ; it is to discuss a poem written by Edgar 
A. Poe, called 'The Raven.' Now, I never 
heard of this poem before in all my life, and of 
course it does not amount to much. But, how- 
ever, I have read Mr. Poe's work called ' Robin- 
son Crusoe,' and think it very good. My work as 
editor of a great and prosperous family journal 
makes it impossible for me to devote much time 
to reading poetry. In order to sustain my reputa- 
tion of publishing the best paper in the county, 
and — I say it with no desire to injure other would- 
be newspapers — a paper with the largest circula- 
tion of any county paper in the State of Massa- 



158 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

chusetts, I am obliged to confine m3^self to busi- 
ness ; but I shall be pleased to hear from any of 
you in regard to this alleged poem." So saying, 
this literary Jumbo subsided into a chair and im- 
mediately began wheezing, gasping and other- 
wise agitating the atmosphere as if in search of 
fractional currency. 

The slim editor arose to give in his testimony, 
and those nearest him remembered for several 
months afterward that a sardonic smile played 
upon his countenance as if he was about to anni- 
hilate something. 

''The cow, my friends,^' said he, "is a very 
docile creature with but few ideas ; she chews her 
fodder, and no doubt pronounces it very good, but 
she dreams not of the corn-fields where a great sea 
of green waves ebb and flow, and whisper of di- 
vine love ; she stands in velvet meadows where 
sweet flowers are springing, but heeds not the 
loveliness of nature, and searches only for food, 
and sustenance for her calf. The ass, hitched tO' 
his cart, feels the soft airs of spring-time dallying" 
with his big ears, but hears no sound of music, 
nor voices long silenced ; he feels only that the 
wind is bringing him something to eat ; he feels 
the warm sunshine, but sees nothing in it save that 
force that makes something to eat grow and ma- 
ture ; he hears the wonderful melody of the run- 
ning stream as it ripples down to the great river,, 
but to him it is only something to drink. So it is, 
my friends, with some of the human donkeys ;■. 
they regard time as a dirty pool in which man. 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 1 59 

wallows and fulfills his destiny by getting fat. I 
am not surprised then to hear, from such a source, 
a statement that he had never before heard of 
Poe's 'Raven,' a poem which has done more to 
elevate the laboring classes of this country than 
any other literary production. Edgar A. Poe not 
only deserves credit as a poet, but for other 
reasons. Who discovered the Amazon river in 
South Carolina? Poe. Who discovered the mighty 
Poe river that lashes the base of the Catskill mount- 
ains, and waters all of New Jersey, making it the 
most fertile of all the yam-producing countries in 
the world? Again I answer, Poe. Who raised the 
first pumpkins in Posey county, Indiana? Edgar 
A. Poe's father. But I will turn from the prac- 
tical side of this man's nature, and speak of 
the sublime 'Raven ;' and right here allow me to 
say that a man who has never heard of the 'Ra- 
ven' must be either a knave or a fool — a fit subject 
to scatter upon a long-suffering community a little 
six-by-nine, ink-bespattered advertising sheet, full 
of senseless jargon and plunder from other papers. 
As I was saying, the 'Raven ' is a beautiful pro- 
duction, but as time is passing rapidly I will give 
way to others who desire the floor," and the Resur- 
rectionist glared in triumph at the "Backbone of 
the Universe," who, crushed all out of shape, was 
pathetically appropriating the atmosphere, with 
nothing to say. 

The buxom widow had listened attentively, and 
was the next speaker. Recently she had made 
some flashy additions to her wardrobe, and ap- 



l6o PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

peared on that occasion in a fashionable garment 
cut decollete. During the evening she had worn 
a light shawl, evidently contemplating a surprise 
on the group. As she arose she laid the shawl 
aside, and revealed the broad Anglo-Saxon charms 
of her upper self to the horrified gaze of her fellow- 
townsmen. The reformed drunkard trembled vio- 
lently, and, after rubbing his eyes to make sure 
that he was not dreaming, crawled behind the 
stove in an instinctive effort at self-protection. 

"The gentlemen who have just spoken," she 
said, severely, '*must not forget that 'ladies are 
present, and that editors of village newspapers 
should air their grievances at the proper time, and 
not at a select literary club meeting, where every- 
thing should pass off harmoniously. As for the 
subject under discussion, I can not truthfully say 
that I admire the 'Raven.' It seems to me that 
Poe must have been a gross sensualist, for the 
poem brings to the mind a picture of a dissipated 
young man lying upon a sofa chair, 

'Whose velvet violet lining, with the lamp-light streaming o'er, 
She shall press, ah ! nevermore)' 

thinking of his lady-love 'Lenore,' and so intently 
is he musing that hours pass unheeded. He was 
evidently expecting some one, for in one stanza 
you remember he heard a 'tapping' and a 'soft 
rapping,' just such as might be expected from a 
young woman entering a young man's room at the 
dead of night. Picture to yourself a man in his 
night-clothes, standing in the door of his bed- 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY, l6l 

chamber at midnight, entreating some visionary 
female to enter, then 

* Deep into the darkness peering, 
Long I stood there, wondering, fearing,' 

"Yes, perhaps he was wondering why she did 
not come according to appointment, and fear- 
ing lest she had found a ' handsomer man ; ' so be- 
wildered and chagrined was he at the thought that 
he listened intently, and heard a voice on the 
wind whispering, ' Lenore.' But she did not 
come, and so he made the ' Raven ' shriek ' never- 
more ' until broad daylight. Of course, there are 
many pretty things in the poem, but its coarse vul- 
garity ruins it." 

" I have observed in this poem," said the shoe- 
maker, " a lack of force and concentration. To 
be successful in this life one must put his shoulder 
to the wheel and push vigorously in the right 
direction. The ' Raven ' pictures a man who has 
given up the struggle because he hasn't the ability, 
or inclination, to prolong the agony, or strive 
further to bring something from nothing. This 
idea is pictured most vividly in the last stanza, 
especially in the lines — 

*And my soul from out that shadow 
Which lies floating on the floor 
Shall be lifted nevermore.' 

What I admire in a man is stability and single- 
ness of purpose, coupled with ability to achieve 
and overcome every obstacle." 
II 



1 62 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

The old m^iid, who had been silent as long as 
possible, now testified : 

" Gentlemen," she said, in a simpering tone, " I 
believe that no less a person than Emerson laughed 
at Poe's 'Raven' and sought to nip the poem in 
the bud, and Emerson himself has been severely 
criticised for plagiarizing the works of Epictetus, 
and Poe has made a most heartless criticism on 
Longfellow ; so that in my brief remarks I shall 
feel that I am criticising a severe critic, and that 
manjr learned men have stooped to criticism, if it be 
stooping to criticise. Last year while I was visiting 
my sister Sarah, who is the wife of Major-General 
Thomas De Smith, I met my cousin, Mrs. Hon. 
C. R. Stringlet, who was returning home from a 
visit to her uncle, who is the Minister Extraordi- 
nary and Deputy Plenipotentiary of Guano islands. 
She first called my attention to the ' Raven,' and I 
must say I liked it very much on the first read- 
ing, but after calm deliberation found it contained 
a vein of impropriety and immodesty which was 
truly shocking. For instance, take the lines : 

' Tell this soul with sorrow laden, 
If, within the distant Aiden, 
It shall clasp a sainted maiden. 

Whom the angels name Lenore — 
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden. 

Whom the angels name Lenore.' 

"These lines reveal the general drift of the 
poet's mind, and he is just as guilty of gross im- 
propriety as if he had actually hugged the girl in 
the open street, or pressed her to his bosom in a 
crowded hall. ' Clasp a rare and radiant maiden,^ 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 1 63: 

indeed — the idea is revolting." The creature was 
evidently aiming to give the audience a lengthy 
dissertation, but Providence interfered in our be- 
half, for at this juncture one of her cork-screw 
curls, not being able to withstand the unusual 
tossing about, fell from her forehead to the floor, 
and a small sensation ensued, in which the "holy 
terror" lost her power of speech for the first time 
since she had had the measles. 

"I find in this poem a lesson," said the re- 
formed man, who saw he must speak quickly, if 
at all ; " not only a lesson, but a warning to young 
men who indulge in the flowing bowl. Notice 
how sad are these lines, addressed to the 
' Raven ' : 

' Take thy beak from out my heart, 
And take thy form from off my door — 
Quoth the raven, " Nevermore." ' 

"Now, my friends, I have been there; and, 
while I do not recollect seeing any ' Ravens ' 
while there, yet I have seen a great many myste- 
rious animals equally hard to get rid of and quite 
as talkative. It is sometimes said that all smart 
men drink intoxicants, and that reformed drunk- 
ards are intellectually very strong. Now, I am,' 
sorry to say that Poe never reformed, which may 
indicate that he was a weak brother ; but in adding 
my mite to this literary carnival allow me to say 
that I have a warm side for those who can not ab- 
stain from the use of alcohol." He sat down 
smacking his lips in anticipation of the tenth in- 
stallment, now about due. 



164 PHANTASMAGORIAIJ^ THEOLOGY. 

"Friends," observed the host, "I have been 
listening attentively to the discussion, and it has 
carried m}^ memor}^ back to other days, when I 
w^as personal!}' acquainted with Mr. Poe. I re- 
member him as a tall, raw young man, with high 
cheek-bones, red hair and a stub nose. When I 
knew him he was an engineer on the Baltimore and 
Ohio railroad, and he was a jolly good fellow. One 
evening when his train was making sixty miles an 
hour he telescoped a fine Durham bull, and the 
company deducted the price of the animal from 
his salary. After this he left the road in dis- 
gust, and I never heard of him again until this 
evening." 

I was called upon for a few words about the 
poem and the poet, but excused myself by saying 
that I never meddled with secular affairs. 

My scholarly friend refused flatly and sarcastic- 
ally to say a word on the subject. An3^thing from 
him would have been "fragrance wasted on the 
desert air." 

Thus ended the first session of the Select Lit- 
erary Club. 

Ariosto tells of a fairy who sometimes appeared 
in the form of a snake. She hated ever afterward 
those who injured her while in her disguise, but to 
those who cared for her while she was a snake she 
revealed herself in celestial beaut}^ and showered 
the blessings of wealth and love upon them. 

Boccalini in one of his admirable fables says 
that Zoilus once gave Apollo a criticism upon a 
book, and when the greatest of all the gods asked 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 1 65 

him for the beauties of the book, he replied that 
he only sought to find the errors, whereupon 
Apollo gave him a sack of unwinnowed wheat, 
and told him to take all the chaff for his pay. 

One represents a true critic, the other a false one. 

Authors, in all ages, have been subject to severe 
and brutal criticism from a species of vermin who 
call themselves " literary critics." Thousands of 
timid aspirants to literary honors, whose souls were 
ablaze with the true fires of genius, have been gar- 
rotted and destroyed by these self-appointed crit- 
ics. Any book or poem or story ever written 
could be mutilated and sneered at by an}^ fool who 
has enough ability to find fault and grumble. In 
my library is a book by Jane Porter on the title 
page of which is the following : " To-morrow the 
critics will begin ; remember that critics are men 
who have failed in literature and art." 

However true this may be, it is reasonably cer- 
tain that many of them never ascended high 
enough in literature and art to make a failure, be- 
cause to fail means to lose, and they have nothing 
to lose, not even honor, or honesty of purpose, or 
common courtesy. In fact, the pseudo critic of to- 
day is simply a man with a razor. He can sneer 
and whack and gash, and make a terrific display 
of edge-tools, but has not learned the true and 
legitimate use of criticism, which is to judge wisely 
and well, being ever careful to be just and gen- 
erous. It is so easy to criticise unfairly, and un- 
just criticism is so hard to bear. Criticism should 
be offered carefully, with a view of doing good, 



l66 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

and not for the purpose of tearing down the work 
of the author ; for who is able to draw the line cor- 
rectly between criticism and fault-finding? It is a 
hard matter to criticise without finding fault and 
inflicting injur}^ We possess different moral, in- 
tellectual and physical endowments ; different 
quantities and qualities of blood, muscle and vital- 
ity ; different social qualities, affections and pas- 
sions ; and, in consequence of our constitutional 
architecture, view things from different stand- 
points. The fat man meets a lean brother and 
sighs to think of the many blessings denied the 
attenuated ; the lean one is quite thankful that he 
is not an overgrown lubber, as are some persons 
with whom he is acquainted. The fast and slow 
man collide in turning a street corner ; the slow 
-one grunts and curses, and the fast one tells a 
friend that if he was as laz}^ as said moderate man 
he would end life in some sequestered spot without 
delay. Two maidens whirl in the giddy mazes of 
the dance ; the graceful contour of one has never 
been marred by the milliner nor subjected to the 
freaks of fashion ; her eyes sparkle like dew-drops, 
and her hair is as black as the raven's wing ; upon 
her cheeks roses and violets are in bloom. She 
feels a thrill of genuine sympathy for the pale, 
emaciated beings around her ; and the spiritual 
beauties who are the objects of her solicitude men- 
tally stamp her as vulgar and masculine. To the 
infidel the christian's religion is a fraud, and the 
Bible the literature of damaged brains. To chris- 
tians the Bible is a solace for dark hours ; angels 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 167 

whisper from its pages, and from the tomb the 
arms of divinity are thrown around the world. 
Understand that criticism is a matter of judgment 
and wisdom, and that human comprehension is 
never infalHble. Remember that you may be 
wrong in your ideas of literature, and may not 
understand the real aim of the author. Then let 
your lips be as " palace doors ^' from which nothing 
vile escapes. 

Much has been said about light reading and the 
hurtful influence of fictitious literature on the youth- 
ful mind. But youth craves excitement, and will 
never be satisfied with the dull, prosaic ideas that 
belong to later years. From the cradle to the 
grave man is in daily contact with sin and iniquity ; 
and a boy's character should be so molded and 
polished that he will not seek evil companions nor 
walk in the ways of iniquit}^. Good books 
should be his constant companions for leisure 
hours, provided he cares to read them. As a 
rule, boys begin with Beadle's trash ; but if they 
are carefully trained soon read up to the level 
of Dickens, Scott, Hawthorne and the higher 
grades of novels, thus bringing good from evil. 
The owl may hoot in the tropics and the raven 
croak in the sunlight, but their discordant notes 
will startle some bird of brilliant plumage, which, 
arising, fills the air with song. The bat that 
whirls from the eaves ma}^ frighten some timid 
humming-bird from the garden branches into the 
busy world. The old ox-cart that plows through 
the mud may pave a way whereon, some day, 



1 68 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

may roll the elegant equipage of a prince. The 
trail of the tortoise leads to some beautiful river, 
upon whose banks the fragile lily and the blushing 
rose breathe their incense to the stars. 

So it is with "trashy" literature. It often- 
times leads the boy into greener pastures where 
the atmosphere is untainted by anything harmful. 
Let your boy read trashy novels if he zuill read 
them, but guard him and guide him safely into 
better thoroughfares. Novelists are compelled to 
reveal the dark as well as the bright side. All 
novels have virgins and villains — a contrast that 
fascinates the reader. If his heart is right, he 
learns to love only the pure, to sympathize with 
the noble heroes and heroines, and hate the vil- 
lains. It is better to be an Irving than to wear the 
royal robes of a king. It is better to be a Reade 
than a Csesar. It is better to be a diadem in the 
world's crown of literature than to be the hero 
of a hundred bloody battles, whose deeds of 
valor cause strong men to shout applause, and 
weeping women to strew the way with flowers. 
Brave and true are the classical writers of fiction. 
They are plumed knights who gallop down the 
highways of the human heart to storm its citadels 
of iniquity ; to overturn the shrines of false gods ; 
to drive out despair and desolation ; to bring in 
peace and love. It is a grand achievement to lift 
the burden from a weary soul ; to cause the light 
of hope to gleam on darkened pathways ; to fill 
aching hearts with song ; to guide tired and bleed- 
ing feet into better thoroughfares ; to paint evil so 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 1 69 

black and hideous that all turn from it with a 
shudder ; to paint virtue a white-winged seraph 
who hovers around the lives of the good, and 
thrills a heaven-born melody through the souls of 
all who open the golden doors of their inner selves 
and give her an abiding place. I am of the opin- 
ion that a boy who would be permanently injured 
by reading dime novels, or who would be willing 
to read dime novels after passing the sixteenth 
mile-stone, would not make a good citizen under 
any circumstances, although there may be excep- 
tions. The stern conservator will not allow his 
boy to read novels because they make him too 
hard, and forbids the perusal of poetry because it 
makes him too soft, and that happy medium "The 
Pilgrim's Progress" is substituted. "Baxter's 
Saints' Rest" and a few other dismal books are 
soaked into his anatomy, and the boy becomes an 
old man before his time. In his mature years you 
will find him a man with just three ideas ; they are 
these : To make money, keep out of hell, and pay 
the preacher. Now, this kind of an education is 
better than a downright vicious one. But a man 
whose education stops there is a very low type of 
manhood, because he never finds out why such a 
beautiful world was made, and never learns to 
take advantage of the situation. 

" No," says the Puritan father, " I do not allow 
my boy to read fiction ! " A thoughtless utterance 
which I will disprove. Now, Sir Puritan, do you 
remember kneeling yesterday morning at your 
family altar and offering up a prayer of thanks-- 



170 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

giving and praise ; becoming so humble that you 
called yourself a "worm of the dust" and other 
things equally disagreeable to sensitive ears ? 
After this you traded a blind and worthless horse 
to a poor neighbor, " even up," for a good one; 
and, while your tongue was busily engaged in dis- 
cussing the merits of your animal, that boy of ^^ours 
sat on the fence reading fiction — but it was not in 
book form. Last Sabbath morning, sir, 3'ou split 
wood until nearly church time, and then abused your 
overworked wife about shirt buttons and other 
trivial matters. Immediately afterward, sir, you 
was seen in a front pew in church as bland and 
placid as an oyster. In an opportune moment you 
dropped a few pennies into the contribution basket — 
shrewd financier, always willing to give with a 
cheerful hand, but conscious of the fact that two 
large pennies, discreetiv dropped, will make more 
noise than a fifty-cent piece falling the same dis- 
tance. In the afternoon, sir, vou attended that 
fortress of the faithful, the class -meeting, and 
told the assembled mutitude that you were still 
walking in that narrow, stingy little path, where 
the select few look down in compassion upon the 
great mass of humanity who are moving rapidl}' 
down the broad road that leads to everlasting, 
never-ending inconvenience and uneasiness. Fur- 
thermore, you said you had passed the first mile- 
post of santification, and expected some time soon — 
the sooner the better — to drop your ulster and be 
translated. During the entire day that boy of 
3'ours sat by your side, and, if not asleep, was 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. I*] I 

reading a very poor quality of fiction — something 
that will do him more harm than the wickedest 
novel ever penned. 

Youth is imaginative, and the imagination is 
the birthplace of many of the joys and ills of life. 
How important, then, that youthful brains should 
be stored with bright, beautiful and chaste ideas, 
which will bear abundant fruit in after years. 

The highest ambition of an author should be to 
add some strength to the mighty tide that sweeps 
forever onward to a higher civilization. If you 
are an author, remember that poverty is no dis- 
grace, and that unjust criticism will never harm 
you if you stand by your guns. You are in the 
great army of the unknown God, fighting for the 
sake of humanity — be brave and true ! Remem- 
ber that you are only suffering the same ills and 
misfortunes that countless numbers of your profes- 
sion have suffered. Learn to endure and walk 
with unfaltering faith to that goal where all men 
are equal. There is no time for complaining or 
idle tears. "Night cometh when no man shall 
work.'' 

O men of the world, who never lend a helping 
hand in the warfare against evil, if all were as 
selfish and mean and cold and heartless as your- 
selves, the mighty tide of civilization would flow 
backward, and the condition of mankind would 
become, eventually, under such influence, but lit- 
tle better than that of tadpoles and monkeys. The 
yokes and burdens of toiling genius have been 
heavy in the past and will be in the future, but 



172 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

many great hardships and much suffering" would 
be avoided if the world would learn to appreciate 
true merit. There are men around whose lives the 
howling winds of adversity and misfortune beat 
continually, who stand undaunted in a battle 
against fearful odds. Their dinted shields and 
blunted spears keep the world at bav. Thev are 
too brave to flinch in the storm, and too manly to 
cower beneath the lash of cravens. How cold to 
them is the touch of hatred I how ciiiel the fangs 
of malice I How unkind of those who in the guise 
of friendship coil about their hearts like sei*pents, 
lacerating the wounds that will not heal ; hissing 
to the world the weakness of the flesh, and hold- 
ing up, as a thing of scorn, the frailties of the hu- 
man heart — hiding all the good, but exposing the 
evil I How such men endure is a mvsterv to the 
world, and 3'et they pass through life as did the 
children of Israel through the Red sea — serene, 
though persecuted ; unharmed, though in the ia\vs 
of death : and ever looking forward to that land 
that flows with milk and honey. 

Our days are empty bubbles that burst in the 
sunlight. Our lives are books wherein romance 
and realitv are str angel v blended ; upon every 
page truth and fiction contend for the master}^ ; 
and so it will be until the great tragedv is ended — 
until death rings the curtain down and " Finis " is 
written on the last page. 



THE LION-HEARTED. 

To look on death with cold disdain, 
And proudly wear the cruel chain, 

And know that fate hath bound us, 
Is to be brave and true and pure. 
Though breaks the heart whilst we endure, 

And ruin falls around us. 

When fleeting days of life do seem 
A passing, dark and dreadful dream, 

And summer friends are gone, 
'Tis brave to trust that once again 
Hope's brightest star will shine — and then 

To seek the golden dawn. 

'Tis hard to bear the numbing pain, 
When all our toil is vain — is vain — 

And dark hours darker grow ; 
But when the awful day is done, 
And heroes sleep on trophies won 

From every boasting foe, 

Then all the happy stars shall light 
The deep, dark girdle of the night ; 

And, from that afterday. 
The angels fair, with queenly tread. 
Will stoop and smile upon the dead, 

And bear them far away. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, 
And to the presence in the room he said : 
*' What writest thou ?" The vision raised its head, 
And, with a look made of all sweet accord, 
Answered, *' The names of those who love the Lord." 
"And is mine one ?" said Abou. " Nay, not so," 
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low. 
But cheerily still and said, "I pray thee, then, 
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men." 
The angel wrote and vanished. The next night 
It came again with a great awakening light ; 
And showed the names whom love of God had blessed, 
And lo ! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest ! 

— Leigh Hunt. 

**A man of wit is not incapable of business, but above it. A 
sprightly, generous horse is able to carry a pack-saddle as well as 
an ass, but he is too good to be put to the drudgery." 

— Dean Slvift. 

Civilization has washed its robes in the blood of 
martyrs, and the tribulation of great souls has 
fallen like gracious dew-drops from the bosom of 
the stars, scattering life and beauty over the 
parched earth, and covering all nature with the 
drapery of immortality. The authors of the Bible 
have not been the only advocates of the sweet 
aristocracy of love and virtue. The priceless leg- 
acy of literature in the great library of time is not 
the work of a few men nor hoarded wealth from a 



176 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

few intellectual fountains, but every age has be- 
queathed to posterity some of the rich results of 
the unceasing labor of genius. The glories of art, 
the treasures of literature and the inspiration of 
music do not emanate altogether from Greece, but 
from the deep, dim, illimitable thoroughfare of the 
past, like leaves from the tree of life " for the heal- 
ing of the nations," they come. Not from favored 
localities onl}'', but wherever true genius found an 
abiding place humanity found a friend. 

Men of genius have been willing to toil and suf- 
fer and sacrifice and die for the weal of the race. 
In out-of-the-way places, in dungeons, in mad- 
houses, in alms-houses, in want and sorrow and 
neglect, some of the brightest intellects and grand- 
est souls ever given to the world have passed away. 
They were hermits and solitaires among men, and 
lived in a dream, forgetting even their own exist- 
ence, apparently, in their efforts to serve mankind. 
Aristides the Just, in early life, was one of the 
poorest men in Athens. Pythagoras was so ex- 
tremely poor that he was obliged to live on fruits 
alone. The wise and virtuous Philoxenus was as 
poor as a beggar, and refused offers of financial 
aid, fearing that he would become indolent. Clean- 
thes, the philosopher, was so poor that he was 
obliged to grind corn as a means of support. 
Ariosto was treated with contempt and bitter sar- 
casm by the Cardinal d'Este. St. Paul in prison, 
chained to a Roman soldier, old, feeble and nearly 
blind, uttered the immortal words that strengthened 
the tottering churches at Ephesus, Philippi and Co- 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 1 77 

lossae. Roger Bacon, the father of modern philos- 
ophy, spent many years of his life in prison, cut off 
from all human intercourse and being allowed 
scarcely enough food to sustain life. Correggio lived 
in indigence. Claude Lorraine, the great landscape 
painter, was in boyhood an outcast, and secured a 
meager living by grinding paints in Rome. 
Camoens, the great epic poet of Portugal, lived in 
poverty and died in a public hospital. Charles 
Broden Brown, father of American novel writing, 
suffered constantly from the ravages of consump- 
tion. Charles Brown (Artemus Ward), the great- 
est of American humorists, wasted away with 
pulmonary disease. Hesoid, the famous Greek 
poet, lived in humble circumstances, and died "un- 
wept, unhonored and unsung." Lucretius com- 
posed his great " De Rerum Natura " during 
intervals of madness, and died by his own hand. 
Euripides, the mighty Greek tragedian, suffered 
great persecution, and was killed by dogs set 
upon him by envious rivals. Durer, the famous 
Dutch artist, w^as cursed with a scolding wife, who 
made him miserable at all times and shortened his 
life. Robert Burns was dissipated, and drank to 
excess, thereby injuring his health. In a state of 
beastly intoxication he fell asleep in a snow-bank, 
and from this exposure died. Colton, the author 
of " Lacon," blew his brains out in a fit of mad- 
ness, caused by suffering and starvation. Shelley's 
life v^as filled with sorrow and distress. " Rare 
Ben Jonson " was a victim of his own passions, 
12 



178 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

and in a fit of jealous rage murdered a brother 
actor. Shakespeare, at the age of twenty, was a 
call-boy and prompter's servant in a London 
theater. Thomas Gray wrote his celebrated 
"Elegy" when suffering great bodily anguish. 
Pope was an invalid during his entire life-time. 
Collins died in a lunatic asylum at the age of 
thirty-six, and wrote his magnificent " Ode to the 
Passions" whilst enduring the severest privation 
and suffering from the ravages of disease. Spinoza, 
the infidel Jew, although an invalid, endured 
poverty, isolation, persecution and neglect in de- 
fending the words of his mouth. Clementi, the 
Roman pianist and composer, was extremel}" poor, 
and was forced to abandon his profession in order 
to sustain life. Charlotte Bronte was followed by 
calamity and sorrow. Annibale Caracci, the 
world-renowned painter, was a tailor by trade, 
and worked eight years in painting the Farnese 
gallery in Rome, for which magnificent work he 
was paid the meager sum of five hundred crowns. 
Ewald, the renowned poet of Denmark, was dissi- 
pated, and but little more than a beggar during 
the latter 3^ears of his life. Hume, in early man- 
hood, was ver}^ poor, and became the guardian of a 
crazv nobleman in order to supply his daily w^ants. 
Margaret of Ravenna was blind from infancy. 
Torrentine, the great historian of Switzerland, was 
blind. Nicholas Sanderson, one of the most emi- 
nent scholars of England, was blind. Hiram 
Fawcett, one of the most remarkable men pro- 
duced on English soil, was blind. Thomas Black- 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 1 79 

lock, Scottish musician and poet, was blind. Sir 
Walter Raleigh died on the scaffold. Haydon,. 
the great historical painter, lived a miserable life, 
which he closed in a most tragic manner with his 
own hands. Otway, the English dramatist, died 
prematurely of hunger in the streets. Bontivoglio- 
was refused admittance into the hospital he had 
donated to the public. Dante Gabriel Rossetti's 
life was one of toil and sorrow. His earthly bliss 
was summed up in two years of married life. 
When sudden death claimed his beautiful Eleanor, 
the great poet-artist lost all desire for life and fame, 
and in his uncontrollable grief buried the manu- 
scripts of all his poems in her coffin, where they 
were allowed to remain for seven years. Chatter- 
ton, the brilliant, committed suicide at eighteen. 
Fielding could not afford the bare necessities of 
life. Savage was sometimes obliged to walk the 
streets of London all night long, not being able to 
pay the price of lodging. Horace, the immortal 
bard, after being defeated with Brutus at Philippi, 
lost his fortune, and wrote verses simply that he 
might exist. Carey lived in destitution. . George 
Eliot was an invalid at all times, and worked be- 
yond her strength. Alexander the Great subdued 
the world, and died with the "jim-jams " at thirty- 
three. Bunyan wrote his "Pilgrim's Progress" in 
prison. Runeberg, the great poet of Finland, in 
his early manhood suffered the keenest stings of 
poverty. Moliere, the father of French comedy, 
changed his name to save his family from disgrace, 
and was excommunicated from the church on ac- 



l8o PHANTASMAGORIAX THEOLOGY. 

count of his profession. During a period of four- 
teen years he was a strolling actor, ekeing out a 
miserable existence with a theatrical compan}^ 
The success he afterward attained was somewhat 
remarkable, yet the legitimate fruit of indefatigable 
genius. Abraham was exiled from Ur. John was 
exiled from Ephesus. Emmet was exiled from 
Ireland. Victor Hugo was exiled from France. 
Kossuth was exiled from Hungary. Kosciusko 
was exiled from Poland. Monti was exiled from 
Italy. Linaees sold his splendid work for a ducat. 
DeFoe, the author of two hundred and eighteen 
volumes, died penniless. Lessing, the poet, and 
prince of German literature, died in abject poverty. 
Thomas Campbell, the polished poet of Scotland, 
was pinched by poverty, and burdened with the 
care of a crazy son. Goldsmith squandered his 
genius in avoiding the constable. Edgar A. Poe 
walked hand in hand with penury and grief, and 
died in a public hospital. Bayard Taylor perished 
prematurely from the effects of hard work. Madam 
de Stael was banished from France, and deprived 
of the friends and home she loved so well. Dante 
was banished from Florence, the lovely city of his 
birth. DeQuincey, the weird and wonderful, shat- 
tered his brain and body with opium. Solomon, 
"in all his glory," probably suffered from domestic 
infelicities. David touched his harp, and made 
music for the coming ages, but his bad boy, Absa- 
lom, was a thorn in his pillow. Galileo was per- 
secuted, and suffered in the dungeons of the In- 
quisition, because he divulged the secrets of the 



PHANl \SM\GORIAN THEOLOGY. l8l 

stars. The poet Crabbe, being reduced to starva- 
tion, and threatened mth imprisonment, applied to 
Burke for help, and received it. Hood v^as an 
invalid, and a constant sufferer. Haydn, the 
splendid German musician, w^as extremely poor 
during his early manhood, and in later years v^as 
cursed with a v^dfe w^ho squandered his money and 
made him miserable. Bach, the composer, was 
blind in his declining days. Some of Ovid's 
strongest poems were written on the shore of the 
Euxine, while he was in banishment and great 
misery. Schiller was afflicted with severe bodily 
ailments, and wrote " Don Carlos " while living in 
exile, under an assumed name. Wordsworth, at 
twenty-five, was in great financial distress, and 
during many years of his life lived in penury. 
Thompson, author of "The Seasons," lived in 
poverty almost his entire life-time. Hogg, one of 
the great Scottish poets, wrote some of his finest 
poems while a peasant-shepherd, toiling for a 
meager pittance. Cicero fell beneath a tyrant's 
dagger. Scipio died in exile, while his soul was 
starving to breathe the air of his native land. 
Pliny was consumed by the flames of Vesuvius. 
Spencer died in want. Cervantes died hungry. 
Terrence, the dramatist, was a slave. Dryden 
lived a life of penury and distress. Butler was 
constantly harassed by the gaunt wolf. Bacon 
lived meagerly and in great sorrow. Plautus, the 
Roman comic poet, turned a mill, and died in jail. 
Paul Burghese was always at the point of starva- 
tion. Steele, the humorist, waged eternal warfare 



1 82 PHANTASMAGORIAX THEOLOGY. 

with the bailiffs. Moses, after enduring the priva- 
tions of the desert for almost half a century, pleaded 
with the good God on Mount Pisgah that the dream 
of his manhood might be fulfilled ; but God rebuked 
him. and buried him in the lonely land of Moab. 
Homer, the heathen poet, whose legacy enriched 
the past thirty centuries, lived in abject povert}', 
and died a " beggar in the streets." Milton, whose 
every thought was clothed in the drapery of divin- 
ity, was blind and a bad financier. Robert Pollok 
was an invalid, and wrote his "Course of Time" 
while expiring with consumption. Epictetus, the 
wonderful Greek, was a cripple and a slave. Cow- 
per was terribly afflicted, and lived a miserable 
life ; one of his greatest poems was written imme- 
diately after an attempt at suicide. Rossi, the 
Italian author, was exiled and murdered. Thomas 
a Kempis, the illustrious divine, was entombed in 
a convent during his life. Velasquez, the Spanish 
artist, died from overwork. Phidias, the greatest 
sculptor of ancient Greece, was persecuted unmer- 
cifully by his enemies, and died in prison. Liszt, 
the Hungarian pianist, was a total wreck for many 
3'ears on account of his dissipations. Nascimento, 
the sw^eet poet of Portugal, died in exile. Rous- 
seau, the French writer, was persecuted to the 
verge of insanity, and lived in constant sorrow. 
Jeremy Taylor was almost broken-hearted by the 
ingratitude of his people. Rabelais, the French 
humorist, was confined to a monastery for many 
3'ears, and was constantly in disgrace. Jean 
Paul, the German humorist and author, en- 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 1 83 

dured the keenest pangs of poverty, and passed 
many a day without tasting food. Diodatus, 
of Asia Minor, learned in philosphy and 
music, was blind. Eusebius, the great christian 
theologian, was blind at five and died at twenty- 
five. Henry, the sweet minstrel of Scotland, 
author of the poetic life of Wallace, was born 
blind, ^sop, whose fables occupy a high place 
in the literature of the world, was a slave, and re- 
ceived his liberty as a reward for his learning and 
wit. Pheedo and Menippus, the philosophers, 
raised themselves from the depths and degrada- 
tion of slaver}^ to positions of high renown. 
Diogenes suffered persecution. Socrates was 
poisoned with hemlock and died in prison. Tasso, 
the great Italian poet, author of the epic poem, 
*' Jerusalem Delivered," spent the latter part of his 
life in a loathsome prison, where, isolated from 
his loved Leonora and suffering from the most in- 
human treatment, he became an idiotic imbecile. 
Shortly after being released, he went to Rome to 
receive the poet's laural crown, but died on the 
very day fixed for his coronation. Hugh Miller, 
the great geologist, was a common stone mason at 
thirty-four, and, after a life-time of hard labor, 
committed suicide. The famous Mirabeau, under 
sentence of death and in prison for nearly four 
years, calmly pursued his literar}^ labors. Cor- 
reggio, the great Italian painter, lived in indigence. 
Titian, one of the greatest painters that ever lived, 
labored as unceasingly as an ant or bee and as en- 
thusiastically as am^ blacksmith or stone mason 



i84 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 



during his long life. He painted at least six hun- 
dred of the world's great paintings. Domenichino, 
the celebrated painter, was constantly suffering 
persecution from rivals, who finally administered 
a fatal dose of poison. Caravaggio, the outlaw 
painter of Northern Italy, lived in poverty and 
misery. Scarron, the creator of French burlesque, 
was paralyzed in his lower limbs and was con- 
stantly in trouble. Van Ley den, the noted Ger- 
man painter, was confined to his bed for six years, 
during which time he executed some of his finest 
work. Archilocaus, first of the Greek lyric poets, 
was the son of a slave. He led a turbulent life 
and was assassinated. Alcman, one of the great 
poets of ancient lore, was a slave and afflicted 
with a most loathsome disease. Voltaire was con- 
stantly in prison, banishment or bitter quarrel. 
Guido Reni, the illustrious painter of Bologna, 
was a gambler, and, in consequence, was con- 
stantly in straitened circumstances. Beethoven 
was deaf. Paine wrote his "Age of Reason" in 
prison. Giotto, the great painter, architect and 
sculptor, was the son of a poor shepherd, and 
spent his earh^ life in watching flocks in his native 
Tuscan vallev. His outfit was limited to a frag- 
ment of slate and pencil, with which he surprised 
some of the great painters of Florence. Giordano, 
a great Italian painter, worked incessantly, day 
and night, to support his povertv-stricken parents. 
Harriet Martineau was deaf, and forced to write 
for her daily bread. Michael Angelo was a pack- 
mule for Leo X., and did some of the finest work 



PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 1 85 

ever executed by human hands, for the glory of 
God and the church of Rome, without other com- 
pensation. Prescott was blind. Heine wrote his« 
best during the nine years in which he lay in bed 
paralyzed and blind. Kitto, the great theologian, 
was deaf, dumb and blind. Mrs. Browning was- 
confined to a dark room for many years, in which 
her poems were composed. H. K. White and 
Keats were victims of consumption. Coleridge- 
wrote his wonderful "Ancient Mariner" while en- 
during most intolerable pain. Byron wrote the 
tragedy of " Manfred '^ while suffering acutely. 

True genius has ever laughed at obstruction and 
calamity, being willing to overcome the former 
and endure the latter without complaint. Count- 
less thousands of such heroes have died in the 
cause of humanity. Many of them are remem- 
bered no more, but their influence makes the rug- 
ged path of life a little smoother, and comes like 
the odor of roses on the summer breeze, separated 
forever from the sweet embrace of the flowers, yet: 
retaining a precious power to please and satisfy. 
It is singular that men who were competent to* 
manufacture a miniature heaven out of the raw 
material should be doomed to isolation and neg- 
lect and made to suffer the pangs of hunger ; to- 
endure persecution ; to be hated and hunted and 
bruised because they dared to soar above the sea 
of mediocrity, or to busy themselves wilh those 
great interests of humanity which so often bring 
no financial remuneration. It is strange that nat- 
ure, or nature's God, never offered a helping; 



l86 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

hand to save these great ones from distress of 
mind and body ; but because they lived and sacri- 
ficed they suffered. In lands where golden har- 
vests bowed in fullness to the earth and abundance 
crowned the labors of the husbandmen, they starved. 
In lands where beasts were sheltered from the 
storm and tenderly cared for, they were denied 
the bare necessities of life. Where nature pen- 
sions beggars and husbands the vitality of va- 
grants, the world could afford them nothing better 
than six-by-two feet of earth. Where dogs were 
kenneled, the}- were homeless. The ignoble ones 
of earth were happ}^ in wealth and vanity, but 
they were heart-broken and forsaken. 

Yes, it is indeed true that the world is indebted 
to such men for much of the treasured triumphs of 
the brain and heart. But, after all, their toil was 
not unrequited ; they enjoyed " the luxury of doing 
good." Their compensation did not come in the 
embrace of friendship, for friendship is a doubtful 
good. It did not come in riches, because they 
were poor. It did not come with fame, because 
fame was too late. Their hearts were burdened 
with grief, but S3"mpath3' was denied them. Their 
souls were on fire, and they sought the cooling 
shades, where other men found repose, but in 
vain ; the all-consuming fires burned them surely 
away, and they found peace only in the grave. 

Their hearts were abandoned by what other men 
called the pleasures and good cheer of this life, 
but they learned to live above the world in an at- 
mosphere untainted by the pomp, pedantry and 



PHANTASM AGORIAN THJiOLOGY. 1 87 

vices of a selfish throng, and in the sweet light re 
fleeted from their inner selves found their com- 
pensation. In laboring for the elevation and good 
of mankind they found a hol}^ reward. In search- 
ing for a light to make the paths of other men 
brighter their own souls were illumined. 

Blacksmiths and butchers and shoemakers and 
undertakers and all kinds of practical men are in 
the majority in this world. Their mission is to 
supply the body w^ith the substantials of life ; their 
avocations are honorable and necessarv ; but the 
glorious minority rules civilization, and shapes the 
destin}^ of the race. Preachers, teachers, journal- 
ists, authors, painters, sculptors and musicians 
supply the demands of the soul, and develop the 
latent resources of the intellect. The great major- 
ity considers everything from a practical or busi- 
ness stand-point. The minority, being spiritualized, 
sees everything from a spiritual or intellectual 
stand-point ; therefore, the w^ork of the few is not 
appreciated by the many as highly as it should be. 
The poetic principle, whether in a sermon or a 
book or a statue or a painting or a song, can not 
be discerned through a business lens, neither can 
it be understood by those impoverished beings who 
see nothing in this life except its hard realities, and 
nothing in death except the shadows of the tomb. 
The man or woman in whose soul the fires of 
genius are burning is the possessor of greater 
wealth than the wealth of the billionaires of ancient 
times ; and the fabulous possessions of the mighty 
kings of other centuries are of small account in 



1 88 PHANTASMAGORIAN THEOLOGY. 

comparison with the riches of a soul permeated by 
the poetic principle, for such a one is forever drink- 
ing the wine of this life, and feeding on the sub- 
stance of the life to come. The man who truly 
loves beauty and order and grandeur is a man of 
refinement, but not every man who has a large 
library filled with choice books is wise and schol- 
arly. Not every man who has lawns dotted with 
marble gods and goddesses, and the threshold of 
his mansion guarded by cast-iron leopards, is a 
sculptor ; not ever}^ man who has his walls lined 
with costly paintings is an artist ; neither is every 
man a poet whose flower gardens are watered 
by the spray of marble fountains as lovely as 
heart and brain can conceive. To determine the 
status of a man you must be acquainted with the 
books he makes his companions, the paintings he 
worships, the statuary to which he kneels, and 
the music that thrills him. A coarse and vulgar 
man may purchase much of the outward para- 
phernalia of refinement and culture, but amidst 
the glories of art and beauty he remains a pedant 
and a boor. 



THE WANDERER. 

lolain, a wandering minstrel, in the gloom of 
night entered a wide valley at the base of a great 
mountain, and drew cautiously near a neat little 
cottage that nestled among the pines. Let us 
listen to his strange musings : 

"Yes, I have returned from over the mountains. How cold I 
am! The wind and sleet are numbing my feet and fingers. This 
is the place ! Yes ; I know it must be. Just beyond, where the 
lamp-light falls upon the snow ; just beyond the flowers and plants 
inside, she sits with bowed head and weeps alone, alone — all, all, 
alone — with a great sorrow. I must not linger here, although the 
place be enchanted. She is, or was, my love ; but one dark day 
when my heart was torn by conflicting emotions she cast me from 
her and barred her soul against me, and bade me a last farewell, 
I went away, but left my heart behind ; and here I am — I could 
not stay. The way was long and dreary ; my feet are bleeding ; 
my heart is breaking! I dare not meet her now, but steal on tip 
toe to the window, and gaze on her I loved so well. How beauti- 
ful! How fairy-like ! Seel she moves, and her long hair falls like 
a tide of sunbeams about her. Glorious hair ! under its bright 
waves I once laid my head and found contentment. My lost love, 
your tender eyes and pleading face followed me wherever my foot- 
steps turned ; your white arms clung to me — and yet you said your 
love was dead. Farewell 1 Farewell, my loved one ! May heaven 
protect you — and yet I can not go. I must hear her voice again, 
though it speak not the old, familiar words of love. Ah ! here's 
the door, and now I knock. She hears not. The lost spirits on 
the bosom of the wind are wailing, and the storm deepens. (Rap, 
rap) — and still she comes not. (Rap, rap, rap, rap) — oh, how sad 
I am and desolate, as when in other days I beat the gates of 



190 POEMS. 

death, and heard no echoes from eternity ! But, she comes — a 
flood of light breaks upon me, and once again I kneel at her feet, 
and my hot tears fall like rain, but naught can I do but bow my 
head and weep, and kiss the tips of her satin sandals. She speaks 
not, but, pale and cold and stern, points her white hand to the 
night, and mutely bids me go. She loves me still, but her im- 
perious nature bids me go. Oh, my bonny one, do not drive me 
thus away ! See the blackness of the night ; hear the loud, fierce 
storm as it sweeps down the mountain-side, as loud and angry a'» 
the wrath of God ! Death talks in undertones — but I go. Be it 
even so — farewell — forever ! " 

The minstrel vanished. Instantly the white arms of the 
woman reached out as if to welcome the wanderer, but in vain. 
A woman's voice cried out in great agony, pleading for his re- 
turn, but the storm was loud and her voice was lost. Standing 
there in the gloom of that awful night, she fancied she heard a 
faint, far-off swell of music ebbing on the night, as if the wind had 
caught inspiration from the minstrel's harp, and was sending back 
the last echoes she would ever hear from its silver chords. 

lolain carried with him at all times a glorious harp, and, when 
he touched its silver strings, whoever heard was entranced at the 
magical sound. Many months passed away, but the poor min- 
strel wandered aimlessly through the world caring for naught save 
the music of his harp, knowing that his heart and life were broken,, 
but feeling ever at his side the presence of his sweet spirit bride. 

He came to a great forest one day at noontide, and, as he entered 
the cooling shades, breathed a sigh of relief. All day long he had 
walked in the burning sands, and was weary, oh, so weary I His 
home was just beyond a deep, dark sea, in a gracious land, which 
robs the sun of its brightest smiles ; and where the ghosts of the 
beautiful and stately dead move about in the pathway of the wind. 
Fair as a god and beautiful; as graceful and tender as a woman ; 
strangely strange, and not of the earth, earthy. From the golden 
gates of his own country he came, if it be true that the "winged 
hours," who guard the portals of the mysterious realm, allow the 
souls of men to travel and retravel the scenes of earth. 

lolain was a heart-broken wanderer, hungry and thirsty for 
something of which the world has failed to give enough. As the 
river pan teth for the boundlessness of the great sea, so his spirit 
longed for the love and beauty and music akin to his soul. 



POEMS. 191 

Alas! he found but one kindred spirit. It seemed to him that 
all men were content to live as the beasts of the field, with no 
thoughts above the common things of life, and no aspirations 
above their surroundings. He loved to be alone, and so this day 
had journeyed over a barren country to reach the cooling shades, for 
it was summer time. Deeper and deeper into the forest he 
traveled, until his feet were swollen and bleeding. At last he 
paused, and, resting his harp on the ground, raised his hands to 
heaven and prayed to Him who guards the sparrows and keeps 
His children from all harm. His eyes were suffused with tears, 
and his heart was as sad as the sigh of wind. By and by he was 
drowsy, and laid down on the moist ground to rest; and, lulled 
by the whispering leaves above him, soon fell asleep. His head 
rested upon a stone, and his flaxen hair fell about his shoulders 
in a wreath of beauty. As he lay there, with his ruddy cheeks 
and drooping lids, and graceful contour decently composed, he was 
a picture upon which the gods love to gaze. After awhile a huge 
serpent crawled along the ground and wound its slimy length 
around the sleeping youth. Round and round the shapely limbs 
it wound itself, and the deadly, venomous, hateful breath stung 
the cheeks of the gracious boy. But lolain awakaned not, and' 
knew not of his danger. Even as the scrawling, hissing reptile 
reared its head to strike a fatal blow, he dreamed of his home be- 
yond the dark sea. But the serpent did not strike, for a little girl 
came — no matter how, no matter whence. She was as lovely and 
beautiful as a dream, and the angels named her and claimed her as 
their own. She threw her little body on the bosom of the pros- 
trate youth and twinedher tiny arms around his neck, and her silken 
hair covered his face. The serpent uncoiled from the sleeping 
boy, and slunk away affrightened and subdued. Then the little 
girl gathered wild flowers, and fastened them in his flaxen hair, 
and scattered them upon his breast and around him, and kissed 
him and went away. The sun went down, and the moon arose, 
but lolain slept in peace. In the dark hour of midnight he 
awoke ; and, standing by his side, was a woman with a girdle of 
stars around her. She clasped his hand and said: 

'* Oh, stranger, with radiant eyes and shining hair, divinely 
fair and beautiful, whom the gods love, and for whom the angels 
wait by the silent river of the dead, why sleepest thou in this 
great forest, filled with wild beasts and reptiles, which may wound 



192 POEMS. 

and hurt thee? Come with me, and nothing shall harm thee; I 
■will guard thee, even as a mother guards the child she loves the 
best." And the woman with the girdle of stars clasped him to 
her bosom, and rained her tears upon his drooping head. 

**Alas! my lady," said lolain, "it can not be. My abiding- 
place is not here ; to-morrow I will be at home. Yesterday I was 
a wanderer ; to-morrow I will be in my father's house, secure from 
peril and harm. Oh ! lady, my feet are so weary ; my heart is so 
sad ; my way has been so long and rugged ! In these tangles I am 
not afraid. Wild beasts may prowl about my resting-place, but I 
am not afraid. Listen, while 1 sing." And lolain touched the 
■Strings of his harp, and sang : 

•• My soul's aweary, 

And I soon shall be 
Forever at rest 

Beyond the dark sea. 
My Father is kindly. 

And His love hath shed 
Light for the living. 

And life for the dead. 
My home is lovely 

And grand and fair ; 
My friends are faithful 

For aye over there. 
He loves His children, 

And He paid the cost ; 
All shall be saved, 

And none shall be lost. 
In my home there are 

Bread and wine to spare ; 
The hungry and weak 

He feeds everywhere." 

The music of the harp and the minstrel's voice ceased, and 
lolain stood as one in a dream, but the woman with the girdle of 
■stars beckoned, and he followed her. After a while they entered 
a darkened valley where the air was heavy and chill, and the 
.girdle of stars around the woman grew brighter, and presently 
they found a very beautiful spot, illumined by the stars. A 
.^mighty fountain was there, and its voice was as the sound of 



POEMS. 



^9S 



•many waters. A great white cross arose from the solid rock, and 
spread its pallid arms in the moonlight, and all about it and 
around it and above it iracious flowers were twined and inter- 
twined — tributes of love from every nation upon the face of the 
earth. An angel stood behind the cross, an ever-watchful senti- 
nel. The woman with the girdle of stars around her leaned his 
harp against the cross, and took him in her strong arms, and 
raised him high above her head, and thus did say: 

**Oh, gods of the wind and storm, and gods of the moon and 
5un and stars, and power in darkness whom men call the true 
God, I give this boy to thee forever and forever ! " 

And the woman with the girdle of stars laid him down on the 
flowers at the foot of the cross, and kissed his brow, and went 
away. lolain's eyelids grew heavy, and he slept soundly for 
many hours, when suddenly the flowers faded from the cross ; the 
voice of the fountain hushed ; and the sky was overcast with 
black and dreadful clouds. Hissing thunderbolts from the hand 
of Almighty God played in the darkened heavens, and the ravens 
of death and hell perched upon the kindly arms of the cross, 
lolain cried aloud in agony of spirit, and awoke. It was only a 
dream ; the cross was still fragrant with flowers ; the bright morn- 
ing sun kissed the waters, and little children were playing at the 
base of the fountain. The angel of the cross bent over him and 
whispered: "Be not afraid, for all is well." The fountain 
splashed, and the angel struck the chords of the harp that leaned 
against the cross, and the voices of children playing at the base of 
the fountain sounded again in his ears. The sweet face of the 
angel grew strangely familiar to the dying eyes of the poor min- 
strel ; she stooped, and he saw again the features of the woman 
who had driven him back into the night, and into the tempest, 
long ago; he heard again the moan of the storm-tossed pines, and 
■the cold touch of the winter winds, but she was with him now 
'''even to the end of the world," and lolain was content, and slept, 
%ut dreamed no more. His sleep is endless, and knows no wak- 
ing. He sleepeth, and the summer wind shall call him not back 
^o life, and the storms of winter shall not hurt him, 
lolain is at home. 



^3 



194 POEMS. 



FLITTINGS. 
I. 

Shadows tender, like a mantle, falling soft and gray. 
Drive the dying day beams downward in a shining way;/ 

Like the slumbers of a great heart — grandeur in repose- 
All the world is growing peaceful in the twilight close. 

Gleaming on the bosom of the purple robe of spheres, 
Beacon lights of glory whisper thro' eternal years. 

All the voices of the nightlings, deep and deeper grow, 
Trilling to a sheen of starlight music, soft and low. 

Musing by a river, where the lonely murmurs roll, 
Exile strains of sadness o'er the tumult of my soul. 

Burning with the impulse that all bitter wrongs awake 
All restraint and reason from my angry spirit break ; 



II. 

Men are brutal, like the beasts, with passions wild and high ^• 
Faces mask a demon in the semblance of a lie ; 

Evil birth of chance, unwholesome product of the dust ; 
Barren hearts forever burning with unholy lust ; 

Heedless of the hurts of others rolling in a flood ; 
Hungry vultures feasting grimly in a brother's blood. 

Love is but a feeble ray that lights a lonely vale. 

Beaming brightest when the death-cloud thunders in the gale. 

Peace is but the passive fancy of a lazy brain ; 
Joy is but a hurrah prompting of some selfish gain. 

Life is like the empty incense of a dying rose ; 
Death is but the dreary dawning of a dread repose^ 



POEMS. 195 



III. 



Soft and sweeter grow the ripples in the fading light, 
Glides a bark of wondrous beauty in a maze of night. 

In it am I somehow in a wizard web that veils, 
And a healing breath of heaven fills the silken sails. 

Sweeping onward in the stillness, drooping shadows seem 
Whirling 'round me through the gateways of a lovely dream.. 

Strangely ringing thro' the quiet wells a burst of song, 
And a host of star-eyed beings gently 'round me throng. 

How the wordless music thrills me, but in magic dies. 
And the bright ones floating upward fade in ghostly skies.. 

IV. 

All but one who stands beside me, as before the day 

When the chill winds blew, and blighted her young life away. 

Just as when in accents tender she would tell to me 
That a sister's love forever 'round my life should be. 

Hearing not the stealthy footsteps stealing on apace; 
Happy in the kindly purpose noble hearts embrace. 

And her morning skies were flushing, burning tides of gold ; 
Hope was thrilling, love was trilling, in life's sunny fold. 

But the angels wooed her from us in the tempest shrill, 
Through the valley cold and cruel, and the river chill.' 

Wafted breeze of other days, why is your touch so cold ? 
Sad the answer, «« Love, when lost, can never be retold." 

But a better breath of hope now thrills me in its flow- 
Sweet and holy creed of faith, I will not let thee go. 

V. 

Kneeling at her feet I bow, and, lo ! the heavens bloom ; 
All my soul in wonder leaps to kiss the parting gloom. 



196 POEMS. 

Tell me of the blissful shore whose glory gleams afar. 
Why do shadows veil the beauty of the morning star ? 

Angel of my'dreams, thou art and shall forever be 
<Queen of thought andlight of life and hope in death to me. 

"Tell me if the love that lingers joyous blooms rebring 
"Where the balmy breeze of heaven wafts eternal spring ? 

^Sounding voice that fills my life with echoes of a song, 
Speak the words I hear not though I leap and listen long. 

•For the chorus^of the angels' mystic murmurs fall, 

vAnd the bright ones, quick appearing, crown her queen of all, 

"With the lilies pure and fadeless, and the roses rare, 
Myrtle leaves in braids of fancy bind her silken hair. 

Anthems of a thousand harps in waning cadence play 
Weirdly ; in the smile of heaven ebbs my dream away. 



MY LOVE. 

Stainless as the starlight beaming 

In the deepest night ; 
Fairer than the dew-drops gleaming 

In the morning light ; 
Debonair, with dark eyes tender. 

Shining as the sun — 
May the grace of God defend her 

From the evil one. 

Sybils whisper, "Danger! danger!" 

As the breezes go. 
Sinful souls, to love a stranger. 

Seek to lay her low ; 
But no shadows drear alarm her ; 

Sin can not allure — 
IMay the ones who seek to harm her 

Endless pangs endure! 



POEMS. 197 



Bright, to me, as stars of glory 

Are her wond'rous eyes, 
Thrilling as an olden story 

Of sweet paraiise ; 
Never tears shall dim their luster. 

Neither grief nor shame ; 
But the joys of love shall cluster 

'Round her holy name. 

Midnight deepens in her tresses. 

Lurks and lingers there ; 
Sanctifies with soft caresses 

Tides of silken hair; 
Deeps of darkness sweet, alluiing 

Life and soul of mine ; 
Wilderness of shade enduring 

'Round my being twine. 

Oh ! her beauty is but fuel 

To the flames of love, 
Bringing o'er the waves a jewel. 

As the fabled dove. 
Soft as air from summer islands 

Girdled by the sea ; 
Pure as snow upon the highlands 

All her life shall be. 

When the alder blooms are blowing, 

Lo ! she draweth riigh ! 
When the air is sofily flowing. 

She is passing by. 
In the stars her eyes are shining. 

Tenderly and true ; 
Lilies bear her soul reclining 

In the gentle dew. 

Oh, abide with me, my sweet one, 

Just a little while ; 
For a moment, oh, my fleet one. 

All my soul beguile ! 



198 POEMS. 



Fear not ; yield to mad embraces, 

God will shelter thee ! 
Fairest face of human faces, 

Nestle close to me. 

Lip to lip, in wild emotion, 

Joy of life to be ; 
Heart to heart, in love's devotion ; 

Heaven is with thee ! 
Hide all forms and other faces, 

Friends of yesterday — 
Broken idols, shattered vases. 

On the backward way. 



THE WEARY SINGER. 

By a river, cold and dreary. 

Chilling in its icy breath. 
Stood a maiden, pale and weary, 

Sighing for the hush of death. 

Think ye not that life held only 
Sorrow for this wounded soul ; 

She, in love's delight, grew lonely, 
Joy but echoed Lethe's roll. 

While youth lingered, goblms haunted 
Visions of a mighty wing; 

Age, a specter, grimly vaunted 
Of the ruin he would bring. 

Sad, she left her harp and wandered 
Down beside the Stygian sea ; 

In a moaning deeply pondered 
Of the evil things to be. 

Wildly crying: "Death, my lover, 
Woo me while the shadows wait! 

Let thy dark wings o'er me hover, 
Win me from the breast of fate ! " 



POEMS. 199 

Wailing, wailing, swiftly trailing 

Through the world in eager flow, 
Comes the mournful, mournful hailing 

Of a thousand tongues of woe, 

Pleading with her : •' Do not darken 

All the sunny days of youth ; 
Maiden, pure and spotless, hearken 

To the holy voice of truth. 

•** Human hearts are torn and bleeding ; 
Human souls are weighed with care ; 
Wounded lives throng stairways leading 
Through the clouds of dark despair. 

'* Ring thy merry matins elfish — 

Measured music, sweet and rare; 
Live for others ; be not selfish ; 
Souls are sleeping everywhere." 



TO A POET. 

What if thy pathway be cheerless, 
Lost in Cimmerian gloom ? 

What if a heart, young and fearless, 
Withers and dies in its bloom ? 

What if the beams of a dim sun 

Warm not the bleakness you know ? 

What if your footsteps are crimson 
Over the pitiless sno\v? 

What if your tired soul is calling 
Out from the storm in a wail? 

What if life's music, in falling, 
.Sounds Uke a dirge in the gale ? 



200 POEMS. 

Roses of Eden are blowing 
Fadeless in all of your woe ; 

Soft from your sad heart are flowing 
Orisons tender and low. 

Sweet is the chalice of healing, 
Glad as Utopian streams ! 

Pierian springs now are sealing 
Love to thy beautiful dreams. 

Sure in the sounding forever, 
Out of the Lethean maze, 

Love shall reward, and dissever 
Loss from the gain of thy days. 



IN BEGINNING. 

'Tis said that once a seething ball 

Of fiery mist and matter dead 
Held past and future bound, and all 

That is, in one chaotic bed. 

No sun had sent a crimson tide 

At set to greet the moon-gleams pale i 

No starry twilight, spangled wide, 
Had cast a soft light to the vale. 

No hand to guide the rover's pace, 

No brain to plan a reason why ; 
But worlds swung outward into space. 

And constellations filled the sky. 

How drear the barren primal age 
Of nations howling in the waste. 

Will mankind read the author's page ? 

O truth of truth, make haste, make haste f- 



POEMS. 201 

Ye men who reacli behind the veil 

And cause, without a cause, explain, 
Or from the sands of Eden trail 

The step by step of loss or gain, 

Where is the fountain-head? And must 
The brain no hope, no promise, bear ? 

Shall dust forever in the dust lie down ? 
And sleep forgotten there ? 

Is man a worn-out, battered clock 

That quickly beats the time away ? 
Or do eternal ages rock 

The cradle of a better day ? 

If man's by nature half divine ; 

If life and love can thrill a clod ; 
Why could not laws unknown combine, 

And create thus indeed a God ? 

No wealth of creed by duty bound, 

Cold as the dead to earthly weal, 
Can pulsate long Ihe mind, or sound 

The heart, or measure human zeal ! 

No true priest poring o'er his beads 

To save the black sheep of his fold 
Can hear a jingle, as he pleads, 

Of wrong thoughts turning into gold. 

I do but dream, and fancies bring 

A tide of time that o'er me rolls; 
And through the world the death-bells ring 

A dreadful dirge to dying souls. 

To eat, to drink, to live, to die ! 

To linger on a lonely shore 
A lonely while, and hear the cry 

For help for aye and evermore ! 



202 POEMS. 



Our friends grow pale, and silence rests 
Where all their merry lives have been. 

We plant the wild rose on their breasts, 
But know not if they live again. 

If this be true, how dull the book 
Of nature seems, oh, man, to thee ! 

For life is but a fretful brook 
That bubbles quickly to the sea. 

Oh, weird, wild voices of the wind ! 

Oh, rivers rushing to the sea ! 
May sad hearts in thy music find 

A whispered hope of life to be. 



TO A FRIEND OF LONG AGO, 

INSCRIBED TO J. H. N. 

I hear the wild birds calling, 

Down through the mead by the stream; 
Moving forever and falling. 

Sweet to my heart — and I dream. 

Under the branches so lonely. 

Waving where memory waits ; 
Grand in her coldness, and only 

Smiling to open her gates. 

Vernal and holy the old days. 

Trooping from corridors dim ; 
Banish the gloom of the cold days. 
Scatter the shadows so grim. 

Earliest friend, now I wander 

With you again, and I hear — 
Swelling the shades where I ponder, 

Deep'ning the solitudes dear — 



POEMS. 203 



"Voices that sound when the starlight 
Dawns on the murmuring deep — 

Music, that sweeps from the far light, 
Lulling the rough winds to sleep. 

Blushing, I see, in the wildwood — 
Beauty of days that are dead — 

Leading me back to my childhoood — 
Flowers that faltered and fled. 

Even when life was the dearest, 
Even when love drooped her wings 

Fondly above us, and nearest 
Seemed all the beautiful things. 

Sad was my heart's wild emotion. 
Death beat the strings — but I heard 

Friendship, sweet-voiced in devotion. 
Speaking to me a glad word. 

Kind as the summer wind bloweth. 
Glad as the dreams of a boy, 

Peaceful as ripples bright floweth, 
Laughing and leaping in joy. 

"So, my dear friend, may your days be 
Green, may the friendship so dear 

Flourish and bloom, though our ways be 
Never so linked or so near. 



F., C. AND B. 

Through silence deep where ages sleep 

In mystery sublime. 
And night-shades creep across the deep, 

Dim vestibules of time, 

A splendid star shines vast and far 

Adown the maze of years, / 

Nor sin shall scar, nor stain shall mar, ) 

Nor shame nor idle fears 



204 POEMS. 

Shall cast a shadow on this light — 
By perfumed breezes hurled. 

It comes to every valiant knight^. 
And sanctifies the world. 

It burned within our Damon's heart 
When Hermione, pleading low, 

Asked God to bless her widowed part. 
And heal the pangs of woe. 

Sweet Pythias, bold and true and brave^ 
With soul that would not bend — 

He offered life and love to save 
The honor of his friend. 

Calanthe's love was half divine, 
Her soul was pure and good. 

Oh, matchless love! Oh, precious wine 
Of life and womanhood ! 

Her lover felt the cruel shock 
Of blighted hopes, and said : 
"Behold, upon this dreadful block 
I lay my youthful head ; 

** A trophy it shall be to hate ; 
A sacrifice to love. 
But soon or late ! ah ! soon or late^ 
The white wings of a dove 

*< Shall flutter down the summer wind. 
And float above the wave, 
And bear to all of human kind 
This mighty love to save. 

*' Something is wrong; I know not what; 
But with my latest breath 
I'll trust him still, though he come not 
Till I am cold in death." 



POEMS. 205 

The gleaming steel was raised on high, 

The fair young head was low, 
When ** Damon ! Damon ! " was the cry 

That stayed the fatal blow. 

Oh, brother knights, this lamp of love 

Shall guard our wayward feet, 
And keep our trusting hearts above 

The darkness of deceit. 

It stills the tumult and the strife. 

And brightens all the way ; 
It smooths the rugged path of life 

To that sweet after-day. 



THE VOICE OF THE CORN. 

■«»' Touch the harp," you say, but what shall I sing? 
Of "Gentle Annie and Flowers of Spring," 
Or softly chant of ** Cabins in the Dell," 
Or *' Moss-covered Buckets that Hung in the Well ? " 
Oh, no, I can not sing familiar tunes, 
Nor talk of stars or buds or mellow moons ; 
But ni tell of a man I met somewhere, 
Tt matters not — the day was soft and fair ; 
But he was weeping, weeping all alone 
Where waving blades of corn caught up the moan 
Of pines, and brought it down to where I stood 
Entranced and all enraptured, as I should 
If sudden harps had waked, and gladly hurled 
A deeper voice of God across the world. 
Said I: *' Weep not, the smile of God is here ; 
No passing pang is worthy of a tear." 

•**Ah, me," he said, "you can not understand 
Why I should weep when beauty fills the land, 
I loved a maiden once, divinely fair. 
And gentle as the dawn is anywhere. 
The grace of God was in her comely face ; 



2o6 POEMS. 

Her eyes were dreams of home beyond the place 

Where mortals live, and living fall asleep ; 

And her hair was ripples of night — so deep. 

I loved her, I say, and glad was the day 

We plighted our troth right here in the way 

Of winds, that blew our vows with alder bloora 

Across the corn and far beyond the gloom 

Of pines, and linked my soul to hers for weal 

Or woe, and sure an angel set the seal 

Of Heaven on our vows, and on my life 

A sweet charm fell the day I called her wife» 

But death came in, and bore her swift away, 

And we laid her down where sunbeams play. 

And peaceful waters of a wayside stream 

Murmur as softly as songs in a dream. 

'Twas years and years ago, yet still I weep 

For her whose slumbers are so deep. 

So I come and listen at God's great loom 

When the corn-blades wave, and the alders bloom 

I hear and understand her voice at morn, 

And all day long on the waves of the corn ; 

And better by far than all songs to me 

Are voices that come on the waving sea." 



J 



DREAMING BY THE SEA. 

In a lovely land, at midnight, where no sin can be, 
On the silver sands, alone, I built a castle by the sea. 

Gently soft, as angel footfalls through the land of sleep — 
So a mighty moon in splendor kissed the sullen deep. 

And the castle and about it slept within the light; 

Love songs, trailing, slipped away upon the wings of night. 

From the wilds of space she came — I do not know from where ;: 
Dreaming dreams of love and beauty — lo, I found her there. 

White arms twined about me in a long embrace, 

God's own light shown all about her pale and pleading face 



POEMS. 207 

And I listened to the music's grand majestic roll, 
For my bonny love in whispers spake unto my soul ; 

In the castle grand she'd live, alone, alone with me; 
Hearing not nor fearing the moan of the troubled sea. 

Lost in love, we walked toward the castle grand and fair, 
But alas, alas, the dew of death was on her golden hair. 

Demons came out of the sea, and stole my bonny bride, 
And her queenly ghost is drifting, drifting with the tide. 

Shine no more, oh stars ; be dim ye purple waste and dread. 
For my love, my bonny love, is pale and cold and dead. 

Wane, oh mighty moon, and ruin rule the awful deep ; 
Darkness, play upon the waters where she fell asleep. 

Moan and weep, ye angry waves, and wail, oh sullen sea ; 
Chant, chant, for ye can not bring my darling back to me. 



THE SUNNY SOUTH. 

There's a rapturous land, where the voice of the turtle 

Wanders away on the wings of the wind ; 
And blossoms, and buds and leaves of the myrtle, 

And jessamine bells are clustered and twined ; 
Where a warm tide of summer forever is streaming, 
And sanctified stars and soft moons are beaming. 
And the goddess of beauty immortal lies dreaming — 

Fair queen of my country in glory defined. 

When the damp dews of death all consuming fell 'round us. 
And buried was hope in the hearts of the brave. 

And broken were ties that in former days bound us — 
Oh ! what of the brothers who sought a lone grave 

By tropical streams where willows are weeping ; 

By palmettoes green where breezes are sweeping. 

And weird stars of heaven lone vigils are keeping ; 
And what of the sailors who sank on the wave ? 



208 POEMS. 

Oh, days that are gone ! How your memory blanches 

Our faces and souls, but we seek to recall 
The anguish that swelled from the South through the branches 

Of pines in the Northland, and hear the footfall 
Of bloodhounds that bayed where the wandering numbers 
Of rivers flow down to the sea, half in slumbers. 
Ah ! the wail of the slave, in his agony, cumbers 

Our dreams of forgiveness that float above all. 

The epoch of war and the redness of battle 

Are living forever, and linger entwined 
With the boughs of the laurel, but never the rattle 

Of wild drums shall waken the heroes enshrined. 
Through the souls of the living their brave deeds are trailing, 
To the life of a nation a sweet peace entailing; 
From cypress and laurel a sad song is wailing ; 

Forever it swells and wanes on the wind. 

But the South from her ashes comes queenly, and what land 

Has risen from ruin so quickly and bold ? 
Oh, that an argus-eyed seer of old Scotland, 

Reaching through space, could her future unfold ! 
Enchanted her solitudes, deep and alluring ; 
Bold in her chivalry, ever enduring ; 
Bright is her new life, our warm love securing, 

And flushing the world with a story untold. 



1 



Baby is dying, and baby lips drink 
Softly the dews of her doom; 

Stepping so gently down over the brink. 
Into the hush of the tomb. 



Baby has gone — we can not tell where ; 

Death has no language, we learn ; 
Stainless she sleepeth, and low lieth there ; 

Love can but whisper, *' Return! " 



POEMS. 209 

TO THE MEMORY OF MRS. HETTY 
ATHON MORRISON. 

Oh, gentle friends, who wonder why 
The stainless one should droop and die, 

Or falter by the way ; 
She only sleeps, profound and deep. 
And love shall hold and sweetly keep 

Our friend of yesterday. 

Oh ! solemn hush, that seems the best ; 
Oh ! weary soul at perfect rest 

Beyond the shining sun, 
We linger in our low estate. 
With hearts all bruised and desolate — 
"Oh, Lord, Thy will be done! " 

Companion of the pure in heart ! 
Impassioned soul ! sweet counterpart 

Of one redeemed and free 1 
No pen can trace nor sad song tell 
The sadness of our long farewell — 

Our last farewell to thee. 



TO 



Unknown, but still a friend, 
I know not, but I trow, 

That all of thought doth bend 
To bring thee whispers now 

Of something, which to speak 
Seems bold to me and strange. 

And yet I sometimes seek 
To walk a lofty range 



H 



2IO POEMS. 

Of thought, and draw thee near; 

Or paint upon the brain 
A picture, and half hear 

A girlish laugh, and gain 

A sweeter glimpse of one 
Who steals along my ways, 

And cheers, like some fair sun, 
The darkness of my days ; 

A being perfect, maid 

Of fancy, and remote 
From other beings, staid 

Forever like a note 

Of some glad song that thrills, 
And thrilling comes again, 

And beats the bars and trills 

Of things that •' might have been." 



TExMPTATION. 

The hour doth wane, and this a dreadful place, 

Where evil spirits congregate 
With unclean hands to hide" the holy face. 

Of one who meets me at the gate 

Of sin, with eyes that shine alone for me, 
And tell of some sweet other place 

Beyond the ever-sighing, troubled sea ; 
Beyond the stars, and in the grace 

Of God — I almost hear her coming tread, 
And feel the warmth of some old day 

That brings the silent sandals of my dead. 
And mute lips whisper, " Come away." 



POEMS. 211 



THE TEST OF FAITH. 

God hides Himself behind a wall of night, 
And Faith alone can see Him in the gloom, 

Or, thrilling, catch the far-off dearer light 
Of home beyond the night, beyond the tomb. 

But Faith is weak, and needeth food and air, 
And lingers 'round the dear, familiar place 

It loves the best — a palace, great and fair ; 
And enters in with tender, holy grace. 

Within, the precious lamps are burning low, 
The blinds are down, the music dull and cold, 

And angry men are rushing to and fro, 

And pride and hate and cant are waxing bold. 

Dear Faith, on tip-toe, softly steals away. 

And mourns and whispers in her weary flight, 
And murmurs all the dreary, livelong day, 
'* God hides Himself behind a wall of night." 



There's a winter that storms thro' the soul, 
And the harp strings of life sound a chime ; 

There's a river whose dirges shall roll 

Evermore through the dead fields of time. 

When the music of youth, springing up. 
Meets a tempest of death chsnting drear; 

When the crystalline flow of the cup 
Bitter turns in the gloom of a tear. 

When the heart is but half understood. 
And its loyal fires blaze in the sands ; 

When life's flowers, fresh from the wildwood, 
Turn to ashes while yet in our hands. 



212 POEMS. 



HER PHOTOGRAPH. 

The face is fair, and golden hair, 
The eyes a pray'rful gray ; 

And ever there, my love to share, 
A soft light seems to say : 

"Oh, love! I wait beyond the gate 
Of years to come, and know- 
That buds of fate ne'er blush too late 
To heal the pangs of woe. 

"The watchfires leap of love to keep 
My heart so warm for thee ; 
My soul doth sweep in music deep 
To one who loveth me ! " 



A SUMMER DAY. 

Babe in the arms of the sunbeams. 
Just from the chaos of night, 

Blushing and coy in the dun gleams, 
Holy and tender thy light. 

Rocked in the cradle of darkness, 
Tossed by the breezes and hurled 

Fairy-like, though in thy starkness, 
Over the rim of the world. 

Brightest and sweetest and fairest 
Cherub of heaven I trow, 

Thou art the truest and rarest 
Gift of the seasons, I vow. 

Yesterday, clad in robes royal, 
Boasting of victories won, 

Waning in beauty so loyal, 
Died on the breast of the sun. 



POEMS. 213 



Through the long night in a wailing, 
Swelled on the breeze to the stars, 

Voices that prayed and are hailing 
Peace in thy glorified bars. 

Beauteous day I remember 
All of thy beauty must wane, 

But from thy last dying ember 
I'll woo thee and love thee again. 

Down by a sanctified river, 
Under the whispering trees, 

Haunted by spirits that quiver 
Love on the leaves and the breeze ; 

There I will lay me and slumber, 
Dreaming of things far away, 

Lulled by the shadows that cumber. 
Soothed by the ripples at play. 

Wake me, wake me, wake me never ! 

From the rapture of my dream ; 
And forever and foreVer 

Let the days of summer stream. 



THE DEAD POET. 

Through the land of shadows dreadful rolls a crystal sea, 
And a lonely bark is floating from the world and me. 

Outward on the gleaming ripples in a murmur low 
Stealing, like a dream of summer, eerie soft and slow. 

Drifting, drifting, lost, forsaken, roaming with the tide, 
To a dawn that glimmers faintly on the other side. 

Still and solemn march of death, and stately spirit cruise, 
Sleeps in peace and beauty there the image of a muse. 

Blooms the dawn across the water, magic unto me. 
Falling flakes of splendor whiten all the crystal sea. 



214 POEMS. 

Golden bark with rubies flashing in a sacred gleam 
Kindled on the walls of heaven, light of Love Supreme. 

Come, ye scoffers of the art, ye lowly ones of earth, 
Look into the poet's face, and see the second birth ! 

Pale, ah ! pale and cold as marble, there he lies in state — 
Shout aloud, ye broken-hearted, he has conquered fate ! 

White, oh white and pure the holy face is bathed in light, 
More serene than when in grief he prayed unto the night. 

On a bed of roses, sleeping with the flowers now, 
At his head a lily, at his feet a myrtle bough. 

Be as kind to me, O death, and let thy mantle be 
Pure and soft as ripples that play on the crystal sea. 



THE END. 



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